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Profit and Loss 




A STORY OF THE 


LIFE OF THE HENTEEL IRISH-AMERICAH, 

ILLUSTRATIVE OF GODLESS EDUCATION. 


BY 


r\y 


REV. DR.;QiJIGLEY, 

AUTHOR OF “THK CROSS AND SHAMROCK,” “THE BriXEU ARUKY, 


3^ 


F,TC., ETC. 



NEW YORK: J 

T. O’KANE, Publisher, 130 Nassau St. 



Entered according to the Act of CJongress, in the year 1873, by 
REV. HUGH QUIGLEY, 

in the Office of the Librnrian of Congress at Washington. 




Wm. McCrea a Co., Stereotypers, 
Newburgh,. N. Y. 


DEDICATION 

To the Right Reverend MICHAEL HEISS, D, Z>., Bishop 
of La Crosse, Wisconsin. 

Most Reverend Sir 

I ask your Grace’s blessing on the following pages, 
which zeal for the proper education of our Catholic youth 
and their religious training have induced me to publish. 
I dedicate this book to your Grace to mark my admiration 
of your profound learning, your edifying piety, and your 
earnest efforts for the spread of true devotion and sound 
education among the people committed to your charge. 

Besides, you are the poorest, as well as the most learned 
and zealous of our Bishops, and hence I can presume to 
claim your Grace as the patron of my humble literary ef- 
fort, without leaving myself liable to the suspicion that, in 
placing my book under your patronage, I aspire to any 
other advantage than the honor I shall ever feel in calling 
you my Bishop, and in subscribing myself your Grace’s 
obedient and humble servant in Christ. 

H. QUIGLY. 

October lo, 1873. 

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PREFACE 


The following narrative, written for serial publication 
in a newspaper of St. Paul (Minn.) — The 'Northwest- 
ern Celt ” — a few months ago, is now given to the public in 
book form, in deference to the judgment of many persons 
of noted literary ability, lay and cleric, rather than from' 
any opinion of the Autlior favorable to its merits. 

The work, though written hastily and without much ar- 
tistic design, was unquestionably very popular on its first 
appearance in the Northwest, perhaps because the scenes 
and characters delineated in its chapters were taken from 
occurrences of every-day life and objects familiar in the 
Western country. 

The Author is well aware that there are many faults 
and defects of artistic skill and style in this book, but, if 
it should meet with as wide a circulation as “ The Cross 
and the Shamrocky^ “ The Prophet of the Ruined Ab- 
bey f and other anonymous publications of less note of 
the Author, he will feel satisfied, whether the critics are 
favorable or not, that the work has some merit, and will 
serve to promote the end he has in view in its publication. 


vi 


PREFACE. 


There is one recommendation, however, which the 
Author can confidently claim for the present, as well as his 
former works, namely, that they can be read without any 
danger to religion or morality: the inculcation of Catho- 
lic piety and faith, and the guarding of youth against the 
dangers that beset their paths in the practice of the pre- 
cepts of the Catholic Religion, being the end in view in 
the publication of this volume. 

Another word the Author feels he can say without van- 
ity is, that the style and manner of relating the facts, of this 
narrative, as well as the facts themselves, are his own, and 
original ; neither borrowed nor translated from foreign 
authors, but “racy of the soil,” — nor written under the 
glow of imagination caused by a perusal of “ Dickens,” 
or any of the other great delineators of modern manners 
and customs. “ My errors, if any, are my own ; I have 
no man’s proxy.” 

THE AUTHOR. 

La Crosse, Wis., October lo, 1872. 


CONTENTS. - 

• PAGB 

Dedication - . . . , .3 

Preface ' . . 5 

. CHAPTER I. 

A Winter NigMs Conversation' around an Irish Farmer's 
Fireside . . 7 

: CHAPTER II. 

Do not Coming Events cast their Shadows Before them? . 17 

CHAPTER HI. ■ 

He Who Despises Small Things shall Fall hy Little and 
Little." . 29 

CHAPTER IV. 

A Meeting of'* Saints" in Devotion and Deliberation . . 41 

CHAPTER V.. 

Pat Begins his ** Cursus Aeademicus," or Academic Course . o3 
CHAPTER VI. 


** Specious Names are Lent to Cover Vices f . 


•. 63 


CONTENTS. 


viii 


. CHAPTER VII. . 

A Religious “ Sociable” Seance 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Instance of Religious Courtship . . . , * 

CHAPTER IX. 

Mysterious Disappearance of an Interesting Young Lady 


* CHAPTER X. 

An Extorted Confession Worthless . . * . 

CHAPTER XI. 

Oracular Letter from " The Spirits” to a Methodist 
Preacher — Delphic Ambiguity. . , •. . 

CHAPTER XII. 

Interesting Comments on Passing Events by .Honest Lay 

men .... 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A Rather Premature Denouement of. a Well-Planned 
Scheme ‘ . 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Who can Relate such Woes without a Tear . 

CHAPTER XV. 

The Bad Seed Begins to Germinate . , 


PAG* 

. -74 

. 84 

: 

. 113 

. 135 

. 137 

. 144 

. 164 


. 176 


_ - .CONTENTS. ix 

FAGB 

CHAPTER XVI. 

An Instance of Modern " Progress.** 189 

CHAPTER XVII. . 

Father John and an Instance of his Pastoral Duties . . 199 

CHAPTER XYHI. 

Conversations of a Grave Nature 211 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Father John at the Academy . . . ' . . . . 224 

CHAPTER XX. 

Mickey Bocagh and his Way of Conducting an Argument . -236 
CHAPTER XXI. ■ 

Mickey Bocagh Repents of his Rashness, and Instructs his 
Mistress . ' 248 

CHAPTER XXII. 

The Genteel Irish-American Explains his Principles, hut 
is Rebuked by his Mother . . 263 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Excursion to Lake Minetonka and Incidents by the Way . 276 
CHAPTER XXIV. 

Multum in Parvo . . . 289 


X 


CONTENTS. 


PAQB 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Mder- Bedtop Still in TrovbU . . ... . . . 300 

•V. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Second Day's Amusements at Lake Minetonka . ’ . . 314 

• CHAPTER XXVII.. 

Conversations Under a Tent \ . . . . 337 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A Shooting Affair at the Lake ' • , 343 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

The Sad News Carried Home • . . 353 

CHAPTER XXX. 

The Net is Drawn Tightly over the Victim .' . . . 363 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

The Priest and the Parson in Friendly Conversation . . 371 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

A Den of Conspirators •, . . 332 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Mickey Bocagh's Ideas of Christian Forbearance Fkeem- 

plified .. . . 393 


CONTENTS. xi 

PAGE 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

The Lost Sheep Perishes Outside the Fold .... 403 
CHAPTER XXXV. 

Stratagems of a Despairing Lover 414 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

" 0 for a Tongue to Curse the Slave f . .426 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

A Change Comes over the Fancies of our Oenteel Hero . . 484 

CHAPTER XXXVHI. 

The Breach Becomes Wider that Divides the Couple . . 442 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

The Oenteel "Irish-Americari Brought to his Senses at Last . 449 






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PROFIT AND LOSS. 

CHAPTER 1. 

A WINTER night’s CONVERSATION AROUND AN IRISH 

farmer’s fireside. 

ICHAEL MULROONY was an honest Irish 
farmer, a native of the County of Kildare, 
in the Province of Leinster, who could look 
back with decent pride to a long succession 
of forefathers, who belonged, as he said himself, 
to the real old Irish stock,” with not a drop of 
Saxon blood in their veins. Many a long win- 
ter’s night he spent sitting by the cheerful turf fire 
that blazed on the kitchen hearth, relating to his 
children .the brave exploits of their forefathers 
against the Sassenagh invaders, when some of them 
served, as men of war, under O’Neil, O’Rorke, or 
O’Moore, during the national struggles against 
the Callagh roughe,’’ or the “ red hag,” as Queen 
Bess was called ; against Cromwell ; “ Dutch Billy,” 



8 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


and every other invader from Strongbow’s era down 
to the rebellion of ’98 ! 

The old man was proud while relating these 
patriotic deeds of his ancestors, but he felt a higher 
and nobler pride in his connection, by blood, with 
those of his relations who shone in the Church as 
bishops and priests, theologians and antiquarians. 

Even now, my children, in our own days,” he 
used to say, “ although we are poor and humble, 
but honest, thank God, there is a priest, a cousin 
of mine, the greatest scholar and antiquarian, as 
Father Lynch told me last week, in all Rome, the 
Holy City, under the very eyes of the Pope him- 
self, and this is a thing to be proud of, without 
any sin.’’ 

But perhaps, father,” interrupted Patrick, the 
youngest son, “that relation of ours in Rome 
does not know whether such people as we live, 
and what good can it do us to have him our rela- 
tion or cousin ? ” 

“Well, sure nothing but the honor of the 
thing, and I tell this to ye, my boys, to spur, ye 
on to imitate him, or at least to do nothing to dis- 
grace our noble relations, that’s all ! ’’ 

“ Oyea, Mavrone Mihil,” interposed Margaret, 
his wife, “ I would not be putting proud notions 
in the heads of those boys : they will learn that 
without much teaching. May be that it is to 
earn their bread with hard labor they would be 
compelled to ; and then it would be hard for them 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


9 

to bear it, when they knew that so few of their 
forefathers were as low and poor as themselves.” 

No Peggy,” answered Michael, “ never while I 
live will any of my blood, I hope, be so reduced. 
I am a farmer of two hundred acres, at low rent, 
and while that holds, and the Marquis of Water- 
ford lives, — God spare him, — there is no fear but 
that I can support ye all, and give my boys good 
education too.” 

‘‘God send that no accident may deprive us 
of this place, Mihil,’’ replied his better half. “ But 
see how the Conners and the Gradys, who were once 
better off than we, had to quit when that tyrant 
Wentworth became their landlord, instead of hon- 
est Captain Nolan. There is nothing certain in 
this world but death ! ” 

“ Yes, I know that the Connors and the Gra- 
dys and others had to leave for America. But 
who would compare the noble Marquis, who never 
turned out a family, with that black-hearted thief 
of a tyrant, Wentworth? His breed was always a 
bad one. What is he but a descendant of old 
‘Black Tom?’ Some illegitimate spawn of that 
cursed old fire-eater. Lord Stafford, who almost 
depopulated Ireland, and filled it with tears, per- 
jury and blood in his days.” 

“ The Beresfords were not muCh better, and it 
is only of late that the stock is improving,” re- 
joined his wife. 

“ I know that, Peggy ; I know the Beresfords 


10 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


were bad, and bad they would continue to be 
surely, but for Father Towhy — heaven be his bed 
to-night ! ’’ 

How is that, father ? ” inquired one of the boys. 

How did Father Towhy cause the Beresfords to 
become less persecuting than they were in old 
times ? ” 

“ I’ll tell ye how it happened,” eagerly answered 
the father. 

“ One of the Beresfords, who was a great per- 
secutor and priest-hunter, died, after having kept 
a priest, with his ears, nose and fingers cut off, in a 
sort of iron cage in his castle for over five years. 
At last he, the old heretic, died, and somehow or 
other the priest got his liberty. I believe the 
castle walls shook and rocked like a cradle after 
the old tyrant’s death till they had to let the priest 
go. After the priest got his liberty he came to 
the Catholic church next Sunday, as the people 
insisted on seeing him, though he could not say 
Mass from the loss of his fingers. But he told the 
people that, as his persecutor was now in the bad 
place, of course he could no longer hold him in 
durance. Well, the young lord, having heard that 
the priest said his father was in the lower regions, 
again sent a party of yeomen to seize on the priest 
and bring him to the castle. ‘Now,’ said he to 
the priest, ‘ I am told you said the late Marquis 
was in hell.’ ‘Yes,’ said the priest, ‘ I did ; where 
else could he be? He was not fit for heaven, if for 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


II 


nothing else but the vermin that covered his body 
and ate him up. (He died of the lousy malady.) 
He did not believe in Purgatory, he could not be 
there ; therefore he must be in the bad place, for 
he died without repenting of his blasphemies 
against the Blessed Virgin and the Saints, or do- 
ing restitution for the injuries he had done to the 
Church and her servants. He died in the blossom 
of his sins. See my hands. Did he restore my 
fingers he cruelly cut off, or my ears and nose ? ’ 
said the priest with tears in his eyes, God be good 
to his soul. 

‘ Well now,’ said the young Marquis, I don’t 
believe in your logic or theology either, and if you 
don’t prove to me, so that I cannot doubt it, 
that my father, the late Marquis, is in hell, I will 
burn you over a slow fire, so I will, you cursed old 
priest you.’ 

“ ‘ Well, if I do prove this to your satisfaction,’ 
said the priest, ‘ what then ? ’ 

‘‘‘If you prove what you say so boldly to be a 
fact, then I shall give you your liberty, do all I can 
to repair the injury done to you by the loss of your 
limbs, and place you on a pension while you live.’ 

‘“ Well, will you promise that you will cease to 
persecute the Catholics, and inculcate on your 
children to be honest, merciful and good to the 
poor ? ’ 

“ ‘ I will, so help me God,’ said the Marquis, 
raising his hand to heaven. 


12 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


‘“It’s a bargain,’ said the priest. ‘But, you 
must let me go back to the parish chapd to get 
the Mass-book and some vestments and holy 
water.’ 

No, not a foot,’ said the Marquis; ‘out of 
this castle you will never go alive if you fail in 
twenty-four hours to prove your words.’ 

“ ‘ Oh, give me three days,’ said the priest. 

‘“Well, I will give you three days,’ replied the 
Lord Marquis. 

“‘You will please,’ answered his Reverence, 
‘let me have a messenger to. go over to Father 
Meagher, the parish priest, for vestments and 
book and bell and other necessaries for Mass ? ’ 

“‘Yes, you can have a messenger, or two of 
them if you need them,’ answered the Marquis. 

“With that the messenger went, delivered a 
note to Father Meagher, and returned with the 
book, the vestments and all other necessaries for 
offering the Holy Mass, with young Father Ryan, 
the curate, to wait on the maimed priest. For 
three days the priest fasted and prayed, offering 
Mass every day, by permission of the Bishop, as- 
sisted by the curate on account of his fingers, in 
his room in the castle. When the third day was 
come he sent for the Marquis, and told him that 
he would like to bring his proof forward in pub- 
lic, where many would be ’present to witness the 
event. 

“ ‘ Very well,’ spoke the Marquis, ‘ I will summon 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


13 


all my family in the dining-hall, the largest apart- 
ment in the castle, and there I want you to adduce 
your evidence that, my father is in Hell, or by 
all that’s ’ — 

“ ‘ Oh, don’t curse, if you please,’ said the priest 
* I have fasted and prayed these three days, and 
now I don’t -like to hear any cursing, as it may 
provoke the Lord to punish instead of having 
mercy on your family.’ 

When all were assembled in the dining-hall, the 
poor priest,. more like a ghost than a man, with his 
stumps of fingers offered the Holy Mass, and then 
after he was through, he turned round and read 
and read .for an hour or so till all were getting im- 
patient, when, at last, the dead Marquis, like Ham- 
let’s ghost, rose up through the marble floor, visi 
ble to all present. All made at once for the doors, 
but they were locked by the orders of the priest 
and Marquis, and, more dead than alive, the crowd 
had to remain where they were till the priest put 
these questions to the horrid spectre that appeared 
before all their eyes : 

‘ Who are you ? ’ ^ . 

‘‘ ‘ I am the Marquis of Waterford that late was, 
alas ! alas ! ’ answered the ghost. 

“ ‘ Where is your dwelling-place since you died ? 
Tell me truly, in the name of Christ.’ 

‘ I’m in Hell ! in Hell ! in Hell ! ’ groaned the 
spectre. 

‘ Now,’ said the priest, addressing the son, 


14 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


father of the present Marquis, ‘ are you satisfied 
that this is your late father, and that he speaks 
the truth ? ’ 

“ ‘ I am now satisfied. For God’s sake dismiss 
him ; oh, oh I die ! ’ he groaned, fainting away. 

“ ‘ Begone, in Christ’s name ! ’ said the priest, 
and the horrid vision vanished like a flash of light- 
ning through the roof of the castle. 

“ From that day to this there was never a per- 
secuting Beresford ; and they have been all good 
landlords ever since the great miracle of Father 
Darby Twohy. God be good to his soul ! ” 

“Well, well,” exclaimed the children, “that 
was really a wonderful occurrence, if true, as you 
state it.” 

“True, ay? That’s as true as the sun shines. 
Didn’t I know Father Darby Twohy well, having 
gone, the year of the first great cholera, to see him 
to get his blessing and his prayers against the chol- 
era? The whole world knows that he brought up 
old Beresford from the infernal regions, and ever 
since, thanks be to God, who gave such power to 
man, that noble family are among the best in all 
Ireland to the poor.”. 

“ Indeed, you speak the truth in that, anyhow, 
Mihil,” said Margaret, his wife. “ My father, God 
rest him, Denis Cauny, who lived within half a 
mile of Father Darby’s house, till he died, .heard 
this account as often as he had ‘ fingers and toes,’ 
from the priest’s own lips, and often saw his stumps 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


15 

of fingers, though he generally wore gloves on 
them.” 

The account of this prodigy seemed to make 
a deep impression on the minds of all the chil- 
dren -except the youngest boy, Patrick, who 
appeared to hear the account of the change in the 
conduct of the Beresfords with a smile of incredu- 
lity, and remarked that he should like to hear 
an account of that extraordinary story from some- 
body who was present when the old lord was 
called up. 

‘‘ I’m sure I was not present. I was not 
born when what I have told you happened,” 
answered the old man. But I spoke to men who 
were present, and who became Roman Catholics 
immediately after, though they were Protestants 
and Englishmen all their days before ; one of them 
was old Mr. Hubbard, the post-master of our town, 
and the other, Mr. Perry, the jail-keeper. But one 
thing we all know, that the Beresfords, from being 
cruel tyrants, became suddenly good men. See 
the present Marquis, how liberal he is. A short 
time ago he went to Dublin, with a bag of gold, 
and flung it by the handfuls to the beggars who 
asked him for alms. Often he returns back the 
whole ‘ gale of rent’ to a poor farmer, as he lately 
did to the Shinners family, when he learns that 
their crops failed. We are under him now, and 
may God spare him long life and good health ; for 
our religion teaches us to pray for all men, heretics 


i6 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


and infidels, though they may injure or persecute 
us. Now, as it is getting late, let us kneel down 
and say our prayers, not forgetting our good land- 
lord, the noble Marquis of Waterford.’’ 




CHAPTER II. 

DO NOT COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE 
THEM ? 

HE day following the fireside conversation 
related briefly in the foregoing chapter, Mi- 
chael Mulroony might be seen riding home 
at a rapid trot on his Cunnemara saddle 
pony, from the town of Kildare, where he had 
been intending to pay his half-yearly rent to the 
agent of the Marquis of Waterford. It was in 
the early spring, the 25th of March, Ladye Day,” 
a time in Ireland when the trees are green and 
orchards and fruit-trees beginning to be glorious 
undertheir profusion of -sweet-scenting blossoms. 
But the blossoms had no smell nor had the rich 
melody of the birds issuing from the groves any 
music in the ears of poor Michael Mulroony, for 
sorrow was in his heart, and grief blunted his senses 
to all invitations of nature to gladness and joy. 
In fact, he knew that the prospects of his family 
were blighted, and that his anticipations of com- 
fort and independence for himself and them were 



2 


1 8 PROFIT AND LOSS, 

as uncertain as the changes of the fickle weather, 
for the Marquis of Waterford was dead. The 
noble lord, who was passionately fond of the 
chase, had been returning to his lodge after an 
exciting day’s hunt of the fox on the plains of 
Kildare, accompanied by the nobility of that and 
the neighboring counties, when, crossing over a 
narrow open drain, his horse slipped and fell with 
its master to the earth. The animal got up 
immediately, but the noble. rider, having dislocated 
his spine, near the articulation of the head and 
neck, was instantly killed. Horror filled the minds 
of all present, when they saw him who led the 
chase, who ever claimed the trophy of victory in 
the close-contested race, whose courage no dan- 
gers could damp and no obstacles retard, after all 
his prowess, daring and success, cut off as it were 
and struck down by an unseen hand in the most 
unaccountable manner, his horse having stumbled 
upon a mere unevenness of the meadow over 
which it quietly paced ! 

Medical aid was at hand, and applied immedi 
ately, for there were several eminent surgeons in 
the company of sporting gentlemen present, but. 
medical science could not raise the dead, for the 
Marquis was dead. 

The body was conveyed to the castle, the sad 
news spread as fast as electricity could send it to 
all parts of the United Kingdom, and there was 
conventional mourning in many of the lordly man- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


19 


sions of the great and rich. The harp, the piano 
and guitar were silent in the halls of the great, 
while consternation, anxiety and real grief filled 
the humble abodes of most of the poor dependents 
of the aristocratic house of Beresford. There were 
indeed but very few of that notoriously cruel 
family, which preyed on the vitals of a large dis- 
trict in Ireland ever since the Reformation,” who, 
by ordinary humanity, not to speak of justice, 
deserved well of the peasantry, for the Beresfords 
were the worst representatives of the cruel Estab- 
lished Church in Ireland ; and hence the deceased 
lord, though a man of a rakish and wild nature, 
but not void of principles of equity and generosity, 
was really loved by the good-natured peasantry 
of the south and east of Ireland. The young 
lord, now no more, had performed some queer 
tricks that shocked their notions of modesty and 
dignity, but they made allowances for his youth 
and English education, hoping that in the course 
of time he would become — ‘‘ God bless him and 
give him long life” — the best of kndlords. Hence, 
on the Marquis coming to his majority, and on the 
occasion of his marriage, the peasantry on many 
of the hills of Waterford and Tipperary and the 
level plains of Leinster kindled “ bonfires” and 
spared neither turf nor straw to give the young 
Marquis a real Irish welcome home to his estates. 
Many a sympathetic tear was shed in the humble 
cottages of the peasantry, and many a prayer was 


20 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


offered to God to have mercy on the good-hearted 
lord, for they knew, though, most likely, he died 
as he lived, outside the saving portals of the 
Church, yet they could not tell what mercy may 
have overtaken his lordship at the moment of his 
fall, within sight of the now desolated cell of St. 
Bridget of Kildare. 

The Irish peasantry, though exact Catholics, 
are by no means bigoted^ as people call it, and 
when they hear of any person’s -sudden death, cross 
themselves devoutly and, no matter what his relig- 
ion was, pray and hope for God’s infinite mercy on 
his behalf, saying, in their own old quaint and char- 
itable fashion, according to an old legendary 
rhyme: * 

“ From the saddle to the ground, 

Mercy asked and mercy found.” 

When Michael returned home on that ill- 
omened day to him that witnessed his landlord’s 
death, he was covered all over with perspiration 
and bespattered with the mud of the roads, raised 
by the nimble hoofs of his pony. He dismounted 
in haste, rushed into the house without speaking 
his usual “ God bless all here,” or “ God save ye 
all,” and threw himself, jaded and muddy as he 
was, into the old rustic arm-chair that stood in 
the chimney-corner near the fire. His heavy sighs 
alone attracted the notice of his wife, who was 
spinning fine linen yarn in the little recess behind 
“ the dresser,” in the end of the large kitchen. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


21 . 


“ What on earth is the matter?’’ she said, run- 
ning up to where he sat. “ Is it hurt you are, Mi- 
chael dear, or did you get a stroke, or is it to fall off 
the horse you did ? ” 

*‘Ah, woman, let me alone,” he answered 
sulkily. “No, I am not hurt or sick, thank God, 
but something worse has happened to us that will 
reduce us all to beggary, that’s what it will.” 

“ Oh, God forbid ! but, even if it does make us 
poor, whatever it is that has happened, welcome 
be the will of God. Surely many better people 
than we came to poverty, glory be to God. But 
why are you so dark ? Why don’t you let us know 
at once ? Did the agent refuse the rent, or give 
you notice to quit, or what’s the matter with you 
at all, at all? Tell me, agra,” she said, caressing 
him. 

“You near guessed it then,” he said; “we are 
to be turned out of here sure, and it will break my 
heart to leave this place where I labored so long 
and made so many improvements in vain. The 
master is dead ! Peggy,” he exclaimed. 

“What?” she inquiringly asked, “not the 
noble Marquis surely that got married nearly a 
year ago — not he, I hope, eh ? ” 

“ Yes, Peggy, he is dead — dead as a herring ; he 
fell off his horse yesterday at the Curragh Spring 
fox-hunt — confound the hunts and hounds. All the 
tenants are in an uproar, for there is no heir now ; 
but his estates will fall into his tyrant uncle’s 


22 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


hands, who is a bishop, and the very worst of the 
Beresfords now living, by all accounts.” 

Well, dear, that can’t be helped. ‘ What can’t 
be cured must be endured.’ Sure the world is 
wide and the Lord in heaven is good, glory be to 
His blessed name to-day,” she said, bursting into 
tears, which she tried hard to conceal from Michael. 
He no sooner saw his wife, whom he tenderly 
loved, in tears, than he in turn assumed the office 
of a consoler, and affecting a right manly tone, said : 
“ Come, Peggy dear, it’s a sin, you know, to grieve 
■for ternporal things, while we have our lives and 
health, thank God. Get me my supper, and don’t 
let the children see us grieving in this manner. It 
would break their hearts, poor things.” 

“ Oh dear,” sobbed the wife, “ something fore- 
warned me that we must leave here soon. Indeed 
I dreamed so often that I had to cross the great 
sea ; and this was why I spoke to you the other 
night, when you were boasting to the boys of the 
education you could give them out of this place. 
I told you we were sure of nothing but death. 
And now my worst fears are coming to pass, God 
help me, and His holy mother to-night.” 

“ Shut up, now, my dear,” said he, kissing her 
tenderly. “ I don’t like to see those pretty eyes 
shedding tears, Peggy asth ore. I am not discour- 
aged yet. The world is wide, and America, thank 
God, is free and open for us all, where there are no 
landlords, but plenty of land for all the world. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


23 


Hurrah for the ‘Land of the brave and the home' 
of the free/ Now, Peggy, not one drop more of 
a tear. See, the boys are coming from school; we 
must not let them see our weakness, a gra gall 
machree.” 

The boys no sooner entered the house, having 
come from the Christian Brothers’ school, than to 
the question of their father, if they had heard any 
news, Michael, the oldest of the male children, 
answered, “Yes sir, the Marquis of Waterford was 
killed yesterday on the curragh, having fallen off 
his horse, as the Brother Superior told the class 
this evening.” 

“ That’s bad news for us all, boys,” replied the 
father, “ but it may be all for the best for us ; for now 
we will go to America. Won’t you be glad to pay 
a visit, perhaps, to your cousins, the Casey boys ? ” 

“ I, for one,” answered James, the second son, 
“am not sorry to leave this country, where the 
poor are ground to the earth by landlords and 
tyrants. I often wished for a chance to go to 
America.” 

“And I, too,” said Patrick, “ for I want to see 
those great lakes and prairies we read of in the 
geography.” 

Hugh and Michael were not so sanguine of 
the advantages of being obliged to exchange the 
almost perpetual spring of green Erin for the parch- 
ing suns and withering blasts of North America, 
while Mary, Bridget and little Annie shrunk from 


24 


^ PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the idea of having to cross the mighty Atlantic 
Ocean in a boat, and said “ whoever wanted to go 
to America that they should not, but would stay 
at home with their mother, or with their Aunt 
Mary, if their mother would have to go.” 

“ Sure you would not go off all the way so many 
thousands of rni-les, mother, over sea and land, in 
danger of being drowned ? ” said Mary. 

I don’t know, dear,” replied her mother. 
“ What if we have to leave here ? — then I should 
go somewhere to get a new home.” 

‘‘ Who would put us. out of here?” inquired 
Bridget. Is not the Lord Marquis dead ; how 
then can he disturb us ? ” 

“ It is not he that could or would do it, but 
those who will come into his place. His uncle, the 
bishop, will now be lord of the soil, and he is said 
to be a hard man.” 

“I thought that bishops were good men. Does 
not the Catechism say that they are the successors 
of the Apostles, and were chosen by Christ to do 
good ? ” remarked Bridget. 

‘‘Yes, dear,” said her mother, “but there are 
other bishops than, those appointed by Christ. 
There are bishops appointed by law and the Eng- 
lish government, who have no care of the people 
or the poor, but to take their rrioney and oppress 
them. This new landlord is one of this sort of 
bishops, having no power but what they get from 
the Queen or King, and not caring for the souls, 
but only seeking to get the money of the people.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


25 


“ Oh, I don’t like such bishops ! ” 

Nor do I, Bid,” interrupted her father. “And 
this is why we are all going to sail for America in 
a month’s time, where there are no bishops or 
other tyrants that can rob the poor and oppress 
their tenants. In two months from now', please 
God, we will be all, I hope, safe and sound in 
America. But we must keep this a secret, for fear 
any attempts would be made to stop us. When I 
heard the Marquis was dead I did not go near the 
agent at all with my half-year’s rent, but brought 
it back as a small help' to make up for my many 
hundreds of pounds in this farm spent on build- 
ings, drainage, fencing and other improvements 
for which the law does not allow me one farthing.” 

Michael Mulroony was a man of determination 
and decision of character, as well as of some pene- 
tration and judgment in temporal affairs. Hence 
his conjectures regarding the wholesale eviction of 
his tenantry by their coming ecclesiastical landlord 
were correctly formed. He was the first, therefore, 
to move out from his holding long before the 
advance of the “ crow-bar brigade” which was 
brought to dispossess others of the tenants under 
the late Marquis. And in less than two months 
after the death of the Marquis he had all his stock 
and effects turned into money, and he and his 
family were on board an ocean steamer — “ the 
America” — bound for New York. After having 
quit their native shores in tears, eleven days suf- 


26 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


ficed to land them under the bright skies of the 
New World amid strange scenes and a strange but 
kind people, amid the din, bustle and exuberant 
life of one of the grandest cities in the world — that 
of New York. 

But though the great city of New York was 
very attractive to the younger members of Mr. 
Mulroony’s family, it had no attractions for himself, 
for he was determined to follow the same occupa- 
tion in the new world that he did in the old, 
namely, that of a farmer. His children, especially 
the oldest of them, were made very flattering offers 
of employment in the city and its vicinity, through 
the influence of some of the many acquaintances 
which they met immediately after their arrival. 
And the oldest boy, Michael, and his sister Mary, 
concluded to remain in the city, after having ob- 
tained, not without some difficulty, their parents’ 
consent, while the rest of the family, after a few 
days’ rest, started again on the long but rapid 
journey of the Far West, as the State of Wisconsin 
was then called, where, having found employment 
for a time as overseer of a number of men on the 
construction of a railroad, he had a good oppor- 
tunity to become acquainted with the quality of 
the land and also to select a suitable location for 
a permanent home. He continued in his situation 
of railroad-master for three or four years in the 
neighborhood of Milwaukee, from a desire that his 
children should have the advantages of schooling 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


27 


in the Convents of some Sisters and Christian 
Brothers which were within a couple of miles of 
his station. At length, sighing for his old occupa- 
tion, he resigned his position as road-master, and 
after having received passes from the railroad offi- 
cials, whom he had so -faithfully served, travelled a 
good way southward and westward, and . finally 
purchased a farm of 320 acres of land in the State 
of Minnesota, in the valley and almost on the 
bank of that fairest of American rivers, the smooth- 
flowing, and majestic St. Croix. 

“ I am now, Peggy, thank God, an estated man,’’ 
he enthusiastically said to his wife on his return 
after two months’ travel in search of a good loca- 
tion. “ I have bought 320 acres of land, at sec- 
ond hand, in Minnesota, near an Irish settlement. 
Before this day month we’ll all be in our new 
home, please. God, with no landlord but God over 
us.’’ 

“ God send it,’’ answered his wife, drawing the 
dudeen^ or cutty pipe, from her mouth. “ I am not 
sorry’ to quit this noisy railroad business. I was 
always afraid of accidents, which happen from time 
to time bn those railroads. How far is the church 
from the place you bought ? ’’ 

Indeed, Margaret, not very far ; about two miles. 
You can go to Mass every Sunday and holiday, and 
even on week-days if you like. There is a nice 
little priest, a Tipperary man, who welcomed me 
very warmly to his parish. Thanks be to God, I 


28 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


could never be happy far from church. I would 
rather live on a meal a day than be deprived of the 
opportunity of going to church.” 

It was in this manner that Mr. Mulroony gave 
an account to his family of his late purchase. 
And in three weeks’ time another new and substan- 
tial member was added to the Irish settlement on 
the banks of the St. Croix, in the State of Minne- 
sota. 




CHAPTER III. 

HE WHO DESPISES SMALL THINGS SHALL FALL BY LITTLE 
AND LITTLE.’* 

ONEST Michael Mulroony, having secured 
in Minnesota an estate nearly as large as the 
one of w'hich his ancestors were robbed in 
Ireland by the iniquitous laws of England, 
felt very vain and independent. His imagination 
was naturally of a lively and fanciful turn, and the 
bracing air and superb scenery in the vicinity of 
his home seemed to add tenfold to its vigorous 
capacity. Hence in purchasing his farm he had an 
eye for the beautiful as well as the useful. He 
could have purchased a farm rnuch cheaper^ and 
perhaps more productive than his present home- 
stead for less money than he paid for it, in a back- 
ward or ordinary locality, but he wanted a strictly 
handsome place. Indeed he wanted a place ‘that 
would bear some likeness, in imagination at least, 
to the old estate on the banks of the Blackwater in 
Ireland called Cappa,’’ out of which his forefathers 
were expelled by the ruthless hands of confiscation 



30 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


and war. The hills, the groves, the lake, as the St. 
Croix is called, and the rivulet or creek, all carried 
his mind back to the memories of the past on 
the banks of the “Avon Duv.” Falsi Simoentis 
ad undamr 

His judgment and imagination were in perfect 
accord, for the farm which he purchased from a tall. 
Swede corresponded exactly with his ideal of what 
a farm ought to be. The land was two-thirds 
prairie, a deep rich dark soil, the balance timbered 
with heavy oak and- maple, but the trees-smooth, 
graceful and thinly set in the land so as to appear 
like an immense “ English park,” as such is called. 

There was a small living creek or rivulet full 
of speckled trout running through the farm and 
dividing it into unequal parts, and this little stream 
was almost entirely shaded by an evergreen arbor 
of pines and bushy cedars on both its banks. A 
rampart of low hills defended, this charming spot 
on the west and northwest from the violence Of 
the severe winter blasts, while on the south and 
east, with only a few acres of rough land interven- 
ing, stretched as far as the eye could reach the 
majestic St. Croix with its silver waters in undis- 
turbed slumber, save when agitated by the paddles 
of side-wheel steamers and propellers, the oars of 
raftsmen or the fluttering of countless myriads of 
aquatic birds — ducks, geese and long-necked cranes. 
The man felt proud, and indeed had apparent 
good reason to be proud, of his home. Hence he ^ 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


31 


often called his wife’s attention to the beauties of 
the surrounding scenes— the majesty of the St. 
Croix, which he said “ seemed to him to rest in 
such profound peace ; the richness of the soil, which 
was equal to the ‘Golden Vale’ in Ireland; the 
luxuriance of the foliage in its various changes, 
green in the summer, purple and redin the autumn 
and brown in the winter. Then there is the 
game, for killing which a man would be transported 
or imprisoned in Ireland: also prairie chickens 
and partridges, and wild ducks and geese, and deer 
and bearsy not to ' speak of the smaller animals. 
Why if the people in Ireland only knew how well 
off they could be here, there would not be many 
left there^ if they had the means to come, before a 
year.” 

“ I doubt very much if many would come if they 
could help it,” answered the wife. “ See how long 
the winters are* — nearly seven months out of the 
twelve in the year. Then what short springs, and 
how hurried a man must be in harvest to secure his 
crop, which three days’ unfair weather may ruin.” 

“ That’s true enough, but though the winters are 
long, they are healthy. And another advantage is 
that we are not called upon to support an established 
church, or to pay the Protestant parson for condemn- 
ing our souls to perdition. Then^gain our children 
get free schools, and we can hire our own teacher.” 

“ That’s true, we have plenty of schools, such as 
they are. But I guess we have to pay dear for 


32 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


them in school-taxes. Now we have only two 
going to school since Hugh, poor lad, joined the 
Christian Brothers, and you have to pay $30 a 
year school-tax, a good deal more than the school- 
ing they get is worth, I am thinking.” 

“ Talking of schooling, my deal* woman,” he said, 
“I have ^made up my mind to send Pat to the 
academy at Brighton this season. I allowed the 
other boys to have too much of their own way ; but 
this young fellow I am determined to have a gentle- 
man made of anyhow.” 

“What ’cademy do you mean? — that Yankee 
school where they are. mixed up, male and female, 
black and white and yellow ; where Suppie Hoskey 
got his learning, eh?’’ ’ 

“ Yes, that’s the very place I am goirig to send 
him. • Be sure and have his shirts and collars nice 
and fashionably done up, for some of the ^ biggest 
bugs’ of the country have their sons and daugh- 
ters there.” 

Indeed you shan’t, Michael,” answered his wife. 
“ Sorra a foot will he go to that same school. Can’t 
he get schoolin’ enough down at the ‘ Irish Corners,’ 
where the parish priest visits the schools every day 
and sees that the scholars learn their catechism ? ” 

“ But there are some ’complishments which he 
could not get at the ‘ Irish Corners,’ which I want 
him to acquire at the academy.” 

“ Yes, there is, to be sure. He would learn to 
chew and smoke tobacco and spit it in our faces ; 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


33 


learn, may be, to call you ‘ the old lellow,’ his father, 
as young Cronin did, who was lately sent to State’s 
prison for beating his mother, and other tricks that 
I need not mention. God gave you sense, Michael ; 
it is you that has the queer notions about making 
your son ^ a gentleman^ ” 

The Irish Corners” was a settlement exclu- 
sively Irish, where, besides a large church, there 
were also several flourishing schools, taught by 
men of their own race and religion. Some of these 
schools were within a shorter distance from Mul- 
roony’s farm than Brighton, and conducted by 
abler teachers than the self-styled “ Professors” of 
the academy. But poor Michael Mulroony would 
have his own way. H-e began of late to dabble in 
politics, was unanimously elected a justice of the 
peace for the district, and was frequently appointed 
chairman at public meetings, read almost contin- 
ually journals- and newspapers which treated of 
politics and recommended the most radical meas- 
ures. His earlier religious training was soon 
obliterated, and his sound common sense gradually • 
undermined by the plausible sophistries of such 
journals as the Leveller s PresSj The Irish Republic, 
the hiternational Guide, The Day s Doings, The- 
Sun, New York Times, Harper s Weekly, etc. He 
soon became a frequenter of taverns, and, though 
he seldom or never indulged in intoxicating liq- 
uors, being a Father Matthew temperance man, he 
spent a great deal of his time and considerable 
3 


34 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


money while in the company of those who spend 
most of their time around saloons. Besides. the 
evil influence df indifferent, if not evil association, 
Michael had the old vanity of ancestry about him, 
in addition to his own personal vanity, now that 
he was a Squire, and therefore he resolved to send 
his son 'to that school where he would get the real 
refined Yankee nasal accent. It was in vain that 
his sensible wife warned him against the danger 
of sending their now only son, Patrick (for Michael 
and James got married, and Hugh had become a 
Christian Brother), to be educated at a school 
under sectarian influence, where all the teachers 
were educated in hostility to the Catholic religion. 
In vain she reminded him of the’ danger to his 
faith at a ^school where religion, the best branch 
of education, was omitted, if a superstition was not 
substituted for that essential ingredient in every 
sound system of instruction. In vain she reminded 
him of the instructions of his old parish priest, 
who inculcated the obligation on parents to see to 
it that their children learned their prayers and 
catechism and religion first, and then they would* 
be more, fit to progress with secular learning and 
science. 

“ That’s all right, my good woman,” he said. 

I do not forget my early training, and approve of 
prayers and Catechism as much as yourself ; but 
w.hat is to hinder the boy to take his Catechism 
with him to the Yankee school, or if not that, to 
study it. when he comes home every evening?’’ 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


35 


“ He could if he would,’’ rejoined the wife ; 
‘‘ but it so happens that those who go to those 
Yankee schools do not care for Catechisms or 
anything else good. See how those boys, the 
Cronins and Brennins, went to the bad from the 
teaching they got at these schools.” 

“ I will see to it that he studies his Catechism. 
Will not the priest take care of that, for has he 
not a class three days in the week of children 
under religious instruction in the Church ? ” 

. “ I know his Reverence has, but has he not had 
great trouble to get all the children to attend, 
some having one excuse and some another? Does 
he not tell us that those who neglect the religious 
education of their children are as bad as infidels? 
Believe me, the priest shall hear of your conduct 
if you send him to that school, Michael.” 

Well, do as you like with him, he is your son 
as well as mine,” said Michael, alarmed at the fear 
of having his conduct exposed to the parish priest. 
He was on the point of yielding to 'the prudent 
warning of his. sensible wife, when Mr. Supple 
Hoskey, the famous schoolmaster, introduced him- 
self, and joined in the conversation by saying, 
'‘dood day, friends. What, arguing I perceive, 
eh?” 

‘‘Yes,” answered Michael, “Mr. Hoskey, you 
may say arguing. I was going to send this young 
lad down to the American Academy, at Brighton, 
but my old woman is ‘ tooth and nail ’ against it.” 


3 ^ 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


What ! ” exclaimed the pompous pedagogue, 
she is averse to sending this young man, as I call 
him, to school to drink at the fountains of elegant 
literature? What would this course lead to, but 
obliterate all the nascent stamens of his genius, and 
amalgamate all his. dispositions to polite learning, 
which would ultimately eventuate in shutting out 
against him all the shining portals of promotion, 
and ultimate in his being an obscure, sordid tiller 
of the soil ? ” 

Well, I don’t entirely understand your bom- 
bastic words, Mr. Hoskey,” answered Mrs. Mulroony, 
but I think it best to send him to school where 
his morals and education will improve together, 
and where the parish priest will have him under his 
control. Besides” — 

“ What care we, free Americans, for the dictates 
of retrogressive priests? Are we not masters of our 
own destinies under our glorious Constitution ? ” in- 
terrupted the pedagogue. “ Education and religion 
are two separate departments, like two straight 
lines running parallel but never coming in contact, 
do you understand. Let priests and preachers 
mind their own business, or, as vulgarly expressed, 
Met the cobbler stick to his last,’ ha! ha! I am a 
Catholic, bred, born and brought up, but if a priest 
would have the audacious presumption to dictate 
to me, a free American, to what school I should go, 
I should at once have a petition drafted in the fair- 
est caligraphy, ornamented with the choicest flowers 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


37 


of my rhetorical and grammatical style of composi- 
tion, and with the signatures of the best men of 
the congregation, forwarded to the bishop, and 
havo him removed at once/’ 

“ Well, Mr. Hoskey,’’ quietly rejoined the lady, 
“ I can’t keep up with your fine Yankee English — if 
English it is, and not a language they call ^ balder- 
dash,’ — but if you say that education has nothing 
to do with religion, I say you lie (hee, hee, hee, I 
have a bad cough) under a great mistake, anyhow.” 

“What,” roared the pedagogue, rising up, “do 
you give me the lie, madam ? I can’t stand this, 
even from a lady ! ” 

“ If you can’t stand my plain talk, my friend,” 
said she, ridding her pipe of the ashes, by striking it 
against “ the hob,” or hearth-stone, “ you may sit it, 
or smoke it in your pipe, you poor brainless crea- 
ture. I would sooner see that boy,” said she, point- 
ing to Patrick, “as ignorant as a nigger all his days, 
or dead, than have him made such a brainless half 
fool as you are, Mr. Hoskey. I am a woman who 
never says one thing and thinks another ; but always 
speak the truth.” 

The “Professor” disappeared instanter, and 
poor Michael, feeling indignant at the roughness 
of his reception by his wife, took up his hat and 
followed the “ Professor” with a view to apologize 
for what had happened. There was not much 
apology needed, however, for the latter was not 
very thin-skinned and was accustomed to no very 


38 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

polite greetings from his countrymen, who detested 
his vain arrogance on account of his ignoring the 
land of his birth, and having renounced all practi- 
cal connection with the Church of his Baptism, in 
order to deserve promotion in degrees of a secret 
and oath-bound society. Both the worthies hav- 
ing quitted the farm-house made their way to a 
whiskey-shop near by, where, after repeated drinks 
of a vile mixture named “ unintoxicating bitters,” 
the “ Professor’’ succeeded in removing all the 
scruples which Mulroony had in sending his son 
to the Academy by dilating on the adva'ntages it 
would be to the young man himself to acquire the 
polished Yankee accent, which would lead him to 
aspire to social eminence, and also represented to 
1 his half-intoxicated listener how the sending of 
his son to the Academy would strengthen his own 
prospects in a political point of view. “ You are 
now simply a justice of the peace and chairman of 
the town Republican committee,’’ said Hoskey, 
draining a tenth glass of the bitters, “ here is to 
you, old man. Well, next year, or the year after, 
seeing you are so liberal and free by your not 
being a slave to priests in regard to the education 
of your son, you will get the nomination for sheriff 
or county judge, or some good-paying office, do 
you mind. FiU those glasses again; I guess it’s 
your treat. Come, Mrs. Mastiff, two more meas- 
ures of your anti-dyspeptic cordial. That grand 
stuff, sure marm, you may call it the ‘eureka,’ ha! 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


-39 

ha! Here’s to you again, my friend; toss that 
off, ’twill do you good. 

“ Then again, as I was saying,” he resumed, 
laying his hand on the old man’s shoulder, “ your 
son, now blooming into manhood, wants to go 
into'elegant society. That will be quite easy for 
him to do in the town of Brighton, where they 
hold sociables” every night in the week, where 
there are plenty of orders such as “Templars,” 
“ Sons and Daughters of Temperance,” and if he 
likes it best, “ Odd Fellows” and “ Free Masons,” 
and plenty of nice girls ^ ha ! ha ! you understand. 
I love the society of the sex, you know, Mr. Mul- 
roony, dearly. 1 love them, the sweet creaturs, ha ! 
ha! haw I do.” 

Michael was “ half seas over” and had not much 
to say, the voluble tongue of the “ Professor” being 
in continual motion, like the pendulum of a clock. 
But when he held up to him as an inducement to 
his son the chances of secret societies and female 
sociables, promiscuous introductions, the old man 
interrupted the, pedagogue, telling him that his 
son Patrick should never, he hoped, get entangled 
in the meshes of a secret society, and as for the 
“sociables” and other schemes of incompetent and 
uneducated sectarian preachers to try to fill the 
deserted benches of their unholy, unconsecrated 
temples, he hoped his son would keep clear of all 
such, and he would warn him to do so, that he 
would. 


40 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ Oh dear, no, Mr. Mulroony,” said the dissem- 
bling Professor. “ I do approve fully of your reso- 
lution. I only hinted at those advantages, if the 
young man was inclined that way, as all of us 
native Americans are, you know. I did not mean 
to give prominence to those advantages ; no, not 
by any manner of means, Mr. Mulroony. It is 
my treat now, I believe. Two more full measures 
of your soul-inspiring beverage. Madam Mastiff, 
dear.” 

“ Run, Melinda,, and wait on those gentlemen. 
Hurry up here, hussy,” exclaimed the landlady. 

More and more of the bitters were drank till 
Mr. Mulroony’s mind, as well . as his vision, was 
dulled, so far dulled that he received the Profess- 
or’s explanations satisfactorily. All his scruples in 
regard to the course of education he was to give 
his son were removed, and next week, in spite of 
the opposition of his sensible wife, Patrick was 
sent to the Yankee academy at .Brighton. The 
Professor and himself had frequent meetings at 
Mrs. Mastiff’s, who, notwithstanding her unwieldly 
monstrous bulk, aggravated by a lame arm and a 
blind eye, was all smiles and very active in supply- 
ing her customers with her mild bitters, till both 
become so besotted, enfeebled and helpless as to 
be unable to stand up or take themselves away 
from that den of Satan where the foundation was 
laid and the seeds sown of the evil fruits and de- 
plorable consequences which are recorded in the 
sequel. 



CHAPTEE IV. 

A MEETING OF “ SAINTS” IN DEVOTION AND DELIBERATION. 

N the vicinity of the town of Brighton it was 
usual with that sect whose principal devo- 
tion consists in loud groans and hysterical 
gestures of the body, to hold a camp-meet- 
ing. The pious gathering was located in a small 
grove of oak timber known as ‘‘ Coon Grove,” 
bordering on the Irish settlement. And this sit- 
uation was chosen in preference to many other 
more attractive groves, it was said, in hopes that 
the benighted children of St. Patrick in the Irish 
settlement might be attracted by the pious noise 
therein made, and afterwards converted to the 
enlightening tenets of Methodism ! 

At the first “ camp-meeting” held in Coon 
Grove a ludicrous incident took place, which 
wanted but little, however, of becoming a rather 
serious affair. The grove in which the holy exer- 
cises were held in earlier times had been known to 
most of the oldest settlers of the Irish township 



42 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


as the haunt of bears, several of which had been 
killed from time to time. It was customary when 
a bear was tracked to the grove, or seen near it, to 
raise an alarm and collect all the men who had 
guns or dogs in order to surround Bruin and slay 
him. A young lad who was sent from the Irish 
settlement to drive the cows home, hearing the 
groans and pious growlings of the Methodists, con- 
cluded that bears were held at bay by hunters’ dogs, 
hurried back arousing the neighborhood by the 
repeated cry of “ Bears in Coon Grove ! bears in 
Coon Grove ! ” In a short time the “ tally ho” was 
raised through the settlement. The cur dogs 
barked, the hogs grunted and fled, children 
screamed, and men ran with rifles and shot-guns 
primed, loaded and cocked, each expecting to get 
the first shot at the “ critter.” When coming 
near the grove the hunters approached stealthily 
•while the line of armed men was closing around 
the spot from which the noise proceeded. 

Silence anti suspense held the most eager quiet 
fora considerable space pf time, when suddenly, 
one of the men having slipped over a log, his 
fowling-piece was discharged, the contents going 
in the direction of the pious crowd, over whose 
heads the buckshot audibly whizzed through the 
grove. Elder Bull, who conducted the saintly 
exercises, hearing the report of the gun, and turn- 
ing down the pupils of his eyes from under their 
lids, soon saw the cordon of armed men approach- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


43 


ing like so many hostile Indians in ambush, and 
leaping from his elevated platform to the ground, 
a distance of about ten feet, and exclaiming 
“ Good Lord save us ! ’’ made off as fast as he 
could towards the. village, followed by many of 
his hearers. The hunters, perceiving the blunder 
made on both sides, began to laugh, and others to 
bless the author of the false alarm — the half-witted 
young lad sent for the cows. 

Some time intervened before an explanation of 
the interruption could be received and order restored, 
whereupon the presiding elder came back, and find- 
ing, upon explanation, that the shot was accident- 
ally fired, and also that a few of the hunters, having 
sent their guns home, remained for a while attracted 
by the novelty of the sight of several hundred 
people leaping, roaring, gesticulating, and calling 
on the Lord, and having come within the line of 
the preacher’s converts’ circle, the latter exclaimed 
in . deep sepulchral voice, “ Thank the Lord for this 
interruption, for, behold, two converts already 
received ! ” 

One or two more of the Irish farmers, urged by 
their comrades, having remained, and taken their 
seats within the magic line, the elder exclaimed in 
still a louder voice, “Thank the Lord, two more 
converts ! ” 

At last the farmers, offended at the fanaticism 
of the “ reverend roarer,” who wis-hed to attribute 
to the miraculous influence of his preaching what 


44 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


was due to curiosity only, and not what he called 
conversion, stood up, took their hats and left the 
place in disgust. 

The rebuke of the peasants had no perceptible 
effect on the crafty assurance of the preacher, who, 
knowing well the natural calibre of his audience, 
enlarged, after the departure of the Irish farmers, 
on thre miraculousness of the escape of himself from 
the buckshot of the discharged musket, assuring the 
credulous crowd that the charge of the gun was 
miraculously averted by the hand of the Lord, 
visible to his eyes, though they were shut ; he also 
returned thanks to his Lord and Master, whoever 
that person was, who made good to come out of evil, 
and by saving himself from martyrdom at the hands 
of an Irish peasant, had occasioned so many of the 
benighted Papists to come within the influence of 
his voice, from which, for the first time, of course, 
those poor people had heard the sound of the 
“glorious trumpet of Sion.’" He had strong hopes 
that the stronghold of Antichrist at Irish Corners 
would soon be levelled with the ground, like the 
walls of another Jericho, and that conversions 
would multiply and a rich crop of evangelical grain 
would spring and ripen after the auspicious sowing 
of so much good seed to-day. 

“It is a bad wind that does not blow in favor 
of any person,” he remarked, and hence the in- 
cidents of this day, he hoped, would mark the 
beginning of an era for the conversion of the be- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


45 


nighted Papists of Irish Corners. The old man 
enlarged on this subject of interruption of his ser- 
vices and on his own worthiness in being the instru- 
ment in the hands of his Lord of the anticipated 
conversions of so many “ benighted ” Catholics, who 
were nothing better than idolaters and Philistines, 
that his fanatical hearers caught the same conta- 
gious insanity that 'took possession of their leader, 
and there were loud calls on the “ Lord ’’ for assist- 
ance to rescue the whole Irish settlement from the 
trammels of Popery, and to open their eyes to the 
glorious light of the new revelation made to John 
Wesley and his noisy followers. 

Hence, after the exercises of the day were 
ended, the elder called a select prayer-meeting and 
council of war, as it were, in the largest tent in the 
camping grounds for the purpose of devising some 
efficient plan for the conversion of the Papists. 
The meeting consisted of all the preachers, the 
school-teachers, male and female, as well as the 
leading business men of Brighton. Brother Bull, 
the presiding elder, opened the deliberations by a 
lengthy prayer, in which, after recounting the idola- 
try, ignorance and obstinacy of the Papists, he 
besought of the Lord the conversion of the whole 
Roman Church, especially that portion of that 
idolatrous institution at his very doors in the Irish 
settlement. Brother Bull’s voice was a deep bass 
one, of great volume and as loud as a cataract, and 
elicited frequent Amens” and “ The Lord grarrt 


PROFIT AND loss: 


46 

it,” from all present. Brother Fribbler followed 
next in a sharp squeaking voice, but while he 
spoke no ‘‘ amens” nor glorys” were uttered, nor 
did the audience manifest any signs save dis- 
appointment at his violent gestures and abortive 
‘ attempts to produce excitement among his hearers. 
At length, finding his animal strength exhausted, 
and that his own ardor was the very reverse of 
contagious, Brother Fribbler descended from his 
lofty flights of fancy, regarding what he saw in the 
Heavens over his head or what he would compel 
the Lord to do, or the inspirations which were 
infused into his mind from above, and becoming 
very calm asked the “ brethering” what steps they 
proposed taking for the destruction of that branch 
of 'Anti-Christ’s kingdom at their very doors, and 
the gathering of the little good seed that might be 
left after the Lord had applied His sickle into the 
Methodist fold ? 

“ The Lord has told me,” he said seriously,, 
that if I could only get into the Catholic Church 
at the Irish settlement, and address the benighted 
Catholics, that He would give them all into my 
hands.” 

After this speech there was a pause in the holy 
man’s address. And he at last opened his eyes 
and looked around the crowd, on the faces of 
many of whom something like 'a sneer could be 
noticed. Brother Fribbler, either perceiving this^ 
or having delivered himself of all his shallow head 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


47 


contained, sat down, calling on any of the ‘‘ breth- 
ering” or sistern” to say what they thought of 
his proposition to get into the Catholic church and 
preach to the Catholics. 

A Mr. Broadhead, the hotel-keeper, rose and 
said that there were two very serious obstacles to 
Brother Fribbler’s proposition, even if, as he stated, 
the Lord had suggested the plan. 

First,” said Mr. Broadhead, “ the course you 
propose would be unwise^ and secondly it would 
be impossible to do what you propose. It would 
be unwise to go into the Catholic Church to call 
the people idolaters and superstitious. I would be 
afraid, if Brother Fribbler did so, that he would 
soon be counted among the few martyrs of our 
church ; for the Catholics would tear to pieces - any 
man who would insult them in their own churches. 
Let the brother reflect how a Catholic priest would 
be treated if he came into our church and proclaimed 
us all heretics, that were to be condemned to hell 
fire ! But it would absolutely impossible for our 
.zealous brother to get into the Catholic puLpit. 
None but Catholic priests, and those’ approved 
priests, are allowed to preach in the Catholic 
churches ; so if this be your only scheme to con- 
vert the Catholics, it is on the face of it an abortion. 
Can’t come it. Brother Fribbler.”- 

Rev. Brother Redtop now stood up, and with 
a voice of considerable sweetness and entirely free 
from excitement, proposed as his firm conviction 


48 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


that if the church expected any success in the 
matter under discussion, namely the conversion of 
the Catholics, they must begin at the head and con- 
vert the Catholic priest first. . He noticed, he 
• said, some smiles of dissent on the faces of some 
present, but “them was his sentiments, accept or 
reject them who may. I have done speaking,’’ 
said the bashful man. 

After the brother sat down, a Mr. Macbeth, a 
merchant, stood up, saying that the spirit did not 
often move him, but he couldn’t resist his impulse 
to say a few words pertinent to this important 
matter. The proposition of our genteel brother 
Redtop reminded him, Macbeth, of a story he read 
in a very old book, where, at a convention of 
certain animals he would not name, for fear of 
appearing personal, it was proposed by the wisest 
members of the convention to put a bell on a cat.” 

Cries of “ Oh,* oh ! shame, shame ! sit down ! ” 

“No, no,” replied Macbeth, “hear me out, I 
mean well. The mice proposed to bell the cat, 
and in like manner brother Redtop proposed to 
convert the priest. Now, to put a bell on the cat 
was hard enough to mice, but to convert the Catho- 
lic priest alluded to, who is a highly educated man, 
learned in Greek, Hebrew and Latin, to my cer- 
tain knowledge, to do this by such trifling efforts 
as those proposed, is simply ridiculous.” 

The sensible merchant, having said so much, 
tQok his hat, stood up and departed, muttering a 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


49 

sentence the last words of which were “ confounded 
fools.” 

A miller present was called on, because of his 
being really a man of fine education, great liberal- 
ity and sincere religious conviction in his creed, 
though not a noisy speaker. His opinion, though 
given in a very mild and calm form, corroborated 
those of Macbeth, the propositions, of the ministers 
appearing to him, as he reluctantly stated, entirely 
impracticable. Being asked if he, the miller, Mr. 
Smith, had any plan to propose, to enlarge the 
scanty pastures of Methodism, he answered^ No; 
but if they expected to have any success among 
the Catholics, which he very much doubted, they 
should give up abusing them so shamefully as is 
generally done by too zealous preachers, and jour- 
nals of a mercenary character, such as the Harper’s 
publications and the religious organs. The views 
of Brother Smith were unpalatable 4:o the fanatical 
crowd, and he was soon groaned out of countenance 
by such words as ‘‘ God forbid,” The Lord knows 
best,” “ Sit down. Brother Smith.” 

The chorus was next taken up by the “ ladies,” 
after a hint from Elder Bull, that probably the 
Lord would reveal his mind to the sisters on this 
all-important subject. 

Mrs. Nugget was the first lady” who stood 
up, after hammering on the end of a stool near her 
with her clinched fist for many minutes, crying out 
in a voice of fearful screaming, The Lord will. 


4 


50 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


hear me ! " — whack, with her fist ; The Lord wall 
come to me ! ’’ — whack, whack ; The Lord will 
strengthen me ! ” “ The Lord will guide me,’’— 
whack, “ The Lord will help,” “ The Lord will save 
me!” 

She then gave a. narrative of her conversion, 
and that of her husband, lately deceased ; how she 
converted three Swedes, two Germans, though the 
rogues went back again, and one Irish Catholic 
young woman, named Nellie Spittle. All these 
conversions the Lord made her the instrument of, 
and she would have a good deal more success 
only for the fact that Nellie, soon after her conver- 
sion, ran off with a backsliding Methodist, who 
refused to marry her, and left her in the city of St. 
Paul, on the streets. Now she could not get a 
single Catholic girl to live with her after they 
learned the fate, through that degenerate Metho- 
dist, of Nellie Spittle. / 

Several other saintly ^‘ ladies” gave their views 
of converting heathens and papists, but as their 
ideas were commonplace enough, such as coaxing 
girls with presents of dresses, and going to ride to 
church and camp-meeting with handsome young 
men, and going to sociables and such gatherings, 
we will .pass them by, and conclude, by giving the 
practical views of Miss Spoones, a young “ lady of 
great knowledge and experience in the conduct of 
souls in the Methodist form of conversion. She, 
Miss Spoones, was sorry to differ in opinion with 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


51 


all the speakers, lay and clerical, male and female, 
who had preceded her, while most of her sisters and 
brothers present, except, indeed. Brother Redtop (a 
bow from Redtop, who was her beau), spoke of their 
success in converting girls or ladies and women. 
She, Miss Spoones, thought that all the zeal ought 
to be applied in efforts to convert young men. 

Cries of “ Good ! good,” and “ Glory ! glory ! ” 
greeted this not very new idea. “ Make sure of the 
gentlemen first,” she continued, “and the ladies 
will soon follow them anywhere, especially into the 
love-cherishing enclosures of Methodist Christian- 
ity.” Loud arid long-drawn nasal “ g-l-o-r-y-s ” 
confirmed that sentiment of Miss Spoones. “ And 
of course,” she resumed, “ as I am in favor of bring- 
ing that about through the missionary efforts of 
well-trained ladies, this is my plan.” 

She had been a teacher in their academy foi 
many terms, she said, and she could boast of some 
experience in the training of minds of young gen- 
tlemen towards a religious inclination. She found 
her success was far more signal with young men 
than with young ladies. 

“ As for the old men and old ladies,” she said, with 
a wicked leer in one of her eyes, in which there 
was a s ight squint, “ I confess my experience in 
such uninviting fields of labor to be limited indeed.” 

As Miss Spoone’s speech was the closing one, 
it was understood that the matter under discussion 
was decided, and the deliberations of the pious 
warriors were brought to an end 


52 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Miss Spoones was unanimously appointed head 
and leader of the movement inaugurated for the 
conversion of the Catholic settlement, and the 
academy, in which she was a “ Professor,’’ was to 
be the place in which the first steps were to be 
taken for that desirable enterprise. 




CHAPTER V. 


PAT BEGINS HIS CURSUS ACADEMICUS,” OR ACADEMIC 
COURSE. 


Mihil, you have conveyed off to the 
academy, our dear boy, Pat, against my 
wishes, and also the wishes of his Rever- 
ence, Father John ? ’’ said Mrs. Mulroony 
to her husband, one day as he sat down to dinner. 

Yes, dear,’’ keeping his eyes bent on his 
plate, “I thought it best to let him get a little 
mere learning than I got myself. There is nothing 
will do for a man in these days in place of high 
education. A man must run a complete ‘ cursus 
academicus,’ as Professor Hoskey calls it, before 
he can expect to rise to any respectable position.” 

“ What’s that you call it, Mihil,”- she inter- 
rupted ; ‘‘^cursus academicus?’ Well, I hope it 
won’t prove a real ' curse’ — that academy — to him, 
as it has to many a one before him.” 

‘‘Why woman, how can it? Is not he old 
enough to judge for himself now, and has he not 
brains enough to distinguish the right from the 


54 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


wrong? There is no use of our bothering the 
priest about these things. He has enough to do 
to attend to his religious duties. Besides, he did 
not forbid me to send Patrick to the academy.” 

‘‘ He did not, perhaps, forbid you. But did he 
not warn the congregation of the danger of trust- 
ing the education of their children to those who 
have as many religions as there are patches in a 
quilt, or of those who laugh at all religion ? ” 

^‘'Yes, Peggy, I know the priest gives such 
warnings, but those do not refer to us, but to such 
as have very young children. I am not afraid but 
Pat will be able to maintain his own among those 
academic boys. He is man enough to take his 
own part.” 

“Yes, among the boys he may, but how will 
he do among the girls? Don’t you know that 
that school is a mixed concern of boys and girls, 
black and white, male and female, of all ages and 
colors ? What a nice place you send your son to 
get the ‘ cursus academicus,’ or what I call the 
curse of the Academy.” 

“ Oh, that’s what you are afraid of, eh ? I 
have no fear for my son on that head. None of 
my blood, I hope, will be caught in a net of female 
adventurers, be they white, black, or yellow. I 
sent him there to learn science, and not to spark 
or court ; for without science, there is no chance 
for a man in this country. See myself, I can get 
only to be justice of the peace — at most sheriff; 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


55 

whereas, if I had the education of Professor Hos- 
key, for instance, I might be judge or senator. 
You don’t understand these things.” 

’Deed I .don’t, thank God, and besides, I am 
sorry you ever got an office, for since you got that 
mean office of J. P. you now hold, you are sadly 
changed for the worse. You frequent saloons, are 
out late at nights, neglect your prayers and the 
church and sacraments, and are not the same at all 
you used to be, God help you,” she said in broken 
accents, with tears in her eyes. Her poor husband 
seeing his wife in tears was at once silenced, and 
approaching her, caught her hand in his, saying — 

“ Oh, Peggy, agra, let us drop talking in this 
way. Don’t take everything to heart so much as 
you do of late. It’s not lucky. I am afraid some- 
thing evil is going to happen, when I hear you 
always warning and reprimanding me. Dry up a 
*■ cushla ;’ I can’t eat my meal, or do anything, if I 
see you in such trouble. There is no danger, all 
will be well yet. We can keep the boy at home, 
if he says there is any danger of his learning evil 
in that school. Be good now, be good.” 

The preceding conversation will serve to give 
an idea of the motives that actuated the minds 
and dispositions of this honest couple. Both 
were honest, sincere, and well meaning. The 
husband’s predominant passion seems to have been 
vanity. He had all the manly virtues of candor, 
honesty, purity, benevolence ; but his highest 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


56 

ambition was to be somebody; to hold office; to 
excel ; to have the applause of his fellow-men as 
well as the approbation of his conscience. His 
wife, on the contrary, had no ambition save to 
please God and to keep herself and her children 
free from the contamination of the world. What 
were office, fame, and wealth to her, she thought, 
if they may become an impediment in the pursuit 
of virtue, sanctity, salvation? Her husband ap- 
plauded and seconded his wife in all her practical 
charitable good works, whether for the dead or 
the living, and allowed her a liberal use of money 
for carrying out her pious intentions. But, while 
he loved his wife for her piety, her' fastings, devo- 
tions and liberal offerings for the suffedng souls, 
and other pious intentions, he found it easier to 
approve and’ encourage those pious works in his 
wife than to practise them himself. Hence, though • 
he urged and talked in favor of his church, and 
liberally contributed to every good work, he had 
always, it appeared, a very sensitive feeling of 
aspiration after popular applause. . Noboby had 
a greater contempt, if not abhorrence, of the low 
vices of the age and country — su'ch as fraud, sensu- 
ality, or avarice ; and none had a greater desire to 
be regarded as the first in the practice of the oppo- 
site virtues. ‘ Mulroony was regarded as the best 
of neighbors, a good citizen, a good husband, a 
good Christian ; in a word, a white man ; while 
his wife did not concern herself about the opinions 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


57 

of other people, though she was really a superior 
woman of her class, and, before God, probably a 
saint. In the words of a classical author it may be 
said : “ Victor causa Diis placuit Victa Catoniy. 
“ His wife succeeded in pleasing God, her husband 
pleased the people.” The virtues and life of the 
one were human, those of the other divine. The 
training the father would give his son would make 
him an Esau, a man of the world, while that of his 
mother would make him a Jacob, a man of God. 
But the die was already cast. As the old Greek 
proverb has it, “ He arke to emisu pantos P — “ The 
beginning is the half of everything.” Young 
Mulroony had now made his debut at the academy 
and embraced a course of education and surround- 
ings which formed an event in his life, and, from 
this first day, exercised a controlling influence on 
his future life. 

During the first few days of young Mulroony at 
the academy of Brighton, he encountered trials 
and difficulties which might overwhelm one less 
self-reliant, but he not only stood out bravely 
again the taunts, quizzings and insults of his fellow- 
students, male and female, but triumphed, in the 
end, over the combined petty persecutions of the 
entire school. 

He reached the academy at an earlier hour than 
usual, and having seated himself at a bench far 
back in the main school-room, he was first assailed 
by the titters, jeers and vulgar remarks of the squad 


58 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


of romping girls, whoni, peeping at the door, he heard 
saying, ‘‘I wonder who that pug-nosed chap is ? ” 
Another would reply, Why, that’s not a boy, but a 
young lady in bloomer costume; don’t you see how 
he blushes and keeps his head stooped.’’ How 
do ye do. Flora, he ! he ! he ! ” “ I’d like to kiss him 

for his mother,” exclaimed a third, “ even if he is 
a bloomer, he ! he ! ’’ “ I wonder who put on that 

paint on his cheeks? — indeed, it’s purty.’’ These 
remarks were generally greeted with shouts of up- 
roarious laughter, which were renewed again and 
again, with stamping on the floor, as often as the 
cunning rogues noticed the faintest smile on 
our hero’s lips. • “ Run, girls, run for the bare life ; 
hejs ready to go for us,’’ another would cry, and 
they would all run down stairs, pell-mell, expect- 
ing, if not hoping, that he would give them chase. 

But the merriment comes suddenly to an end, 
and the excitement visible in the countenance of 
the “ young ladies” showed the shrewd principal 
of the institution, that something unusual had oc- 
curred. She made haste to ascend the stairs, and, 
having taken her seat at her desk, perceiving that 
a new pupil had arrived, from the parcel of books 
he had by his side on the bench on which he had 
modestly seated himself, she beckoned to him to 
come forward to give his name for registry on the 
. roll. 

There was deep silence in the school-room, and 
for a few moments all eyes were riveted on the new- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


59 


comer, not a few in admiration of his graceful form 
and beautiful face. But when he, in a modest though 
clear voice, gave his name as Patrick Mulroony, the 
whole school was convulsed in a fit of laughter, 
which could be compared to nothing else than the 
neighing of several scores of young colts, all at the 
same time. The principal, though her affected 
gravity was not proof against the contagion of laugh- 
ter, came down several times with the ferrule on her 
desk, proclaiming ‘‘ Silence,” “ Silence,” repeatedly, 
and crying “ Order, order,”. Shame to the girls at 
the front desks.” She placed the new scholar in 
the first class, and seated him at a desk to the right 
of her own, where he was secure from the annoying 
gaze of most of the scholars. 

He enjoyed comparative peace during study- 
hours, but during recess, and after school was 
dismissed, the boys greeted him with the most 
insulting epithets and jeers, the girls always 
encouraging them and applauding all their rude- 
ness by their presence, and the pleasure which the 
coarse language of the boys gave them. ‘^How 
are you, Mr. Mul-ro-o-o-ny ? ” they would cry, while 
others would call him Fooldoony” or Mul- 
coony.” Some would ask him how near related 
he was to “ Saint Patrick,” and how many pota- 
toes it took to make the Saint’s beads.” Then 
they would ask him some insulting question about 
his mother, or if he had a sister named Biddy 
Fooldoony.” Again they would taunt him with 


6o 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


being the beau of old “ Skinflint Spoones/’ because 
that lady had placed him at a privileged desk. 
Our young tyro bore with these taunts, jeers 
and insults patiently for about a week, till at last 
his patience gave way, and one - evening, while 
being snowballed by six or eight of the largest 
boys, he faced the whole squad and discomfited 
them. Three of his assailants he tripped, a couple 
more he kicked, and one tall fellow, whom from his 
form his classmates called “ Spike,” he seized 
by the collar and elbow and flung into a deep 
snow drift, where he got nearly smothered. Thus 
the young man who, from his silence and modest 
demeanor, was called the ‘^girl in pantaloons” by 
his schoolmates, soon proved that he was as brave 
and intrepid when aroused, as he was quiet and 
unassuming when unprovoked. 

But there is trouble in store for him, for some 
of the scholars whom he used so roughly were 
seriously injured, and especially the one called 
Spike,” who got out of the snow-drift with diffi- 
culty." And what added more to the mischief, this 
victim was the son of the presiding Methodist 
preacher. Brother Bull ! 

There was great excitement for a few days 
among the retailers of small news in Brighton. 
The rumor was rife that young Bull was at the 
point of death, that he had been stabbed, that his 
spine was dislocated, in fact, that he had been 
assassinated by . one of the Irish from the Celtic 
settlement. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


6l 


Some were in favor of having the young culprit 
‘‘lynched/’ others were for having him arrested, 
but all, even the most moderate of the citizens, 
favored his expulsion from the academy. But, 
unluckily for our young friend, none of those 
measures were carried out, and after a rigid inquiry 
into all the circumstances of the case he was 
acquitted of all blame. 

’Tis true, brother Bull and his fanatical brethren 
were in favor of the most extreme measure^, but 
there were others whose opinions carried more 
weight .than that of the senior Methodist preacher, 
and conspicuous among those was the teacher, 
Miss Spoones. She bore testimony to the young 
man’s uniform mild demeanor in school, to the 
. persistent annoyance of his comrades, which he had 
borne so patiently for several days. And besides, 
she told the inquisitors that he was not only mild, 
talented and well-behaved, but also very obedient 
and easily induced to participate in the “ moral 
and religious exercises of the school,” as she called 
them. After having spoken so far reasonably, 
she then, comprehending the calibre of those who 
constituted the investigation, appealed to their 
fanaticism, by assuring them, sotto voce., that all her 
hopes of progressing the “ work of the Lord ’’ at 
the Irish settlement were .centred in that young 
man. “ He had already,” said Miss Spoones, 
“ learned two nice Methodist hymns, adopted and 
repeated the words : ‘ Thine is the power, the 


62 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


kingdom and the glory,’ after the Lord’s prayer, 
though the Catholics rejected those words. He 
promised to attend the next “ sociable’’ at Mrs. 
Nugget’s, and there was no doubt but he would be 
a convert after the next camp-meeting in Coon 
Grove.” 

The opinion of Miss Spoones was seconded by 
most of the pious young ladies present, who thought 
it a pity that such an interesting young man, though 
he bore such an Irish name, should be driven from 
the academy. 

This was the unanimous view of all the young 
pious ladies, who, it appears, are as great admirers 
of beauty, gallantry and bravery in young men .as 
those ladies generally all over the world are who do 
not make any loud professions of piety. Hence 
the women carried it. Let brother Bull’s awkward 
son “ Spike’’ get over his injuries as he may, and 
the others who were hurt from the rough handling 
of young Mulroony nurse their pains and sores, 
but let not the latter be expelled, and the prospec- 
tive triumph of Miss Spoones be marred thereby. 
This was the decision, and the investigation closed. 



CHAPTER VI. 

“ NOMINA HONESTA PR^ETENDUNTUR VITUS.” 

“ SPECIOUS NAMES ARE LENT TO COVER VICES.” 

T the Irish settlement was a sort of public- 
house where small 'wares, such as friction 
matches, tallow candles, candy, soap, and a 
few other articles of common use among 
the lowest class of farmers, were retailed. But 
the chief articles of commerce and of profit to Mrs. 
Mastiff and her husband who ran the establish- 
ment, were bad whiskey and damaged beer. We 
say the house was kept by Mrs. Mastiff and 
husband, for she was the principal of the firm, he 
merely her tool, hired man, who got no pay, — or 
her slave, for though the old lady, as he called her, 
was drunk one half of the time, and the other half, 
save when there were plenty of customers, scold- 
ing' and abusing poor Faddle, even to blows; he, 
the poor man, never dared to have a frown on him, 
but seemed happy when his braver, if not better 
half, kicked him around the house. He was the 
best trained and disciplined Mastiff in the world ; 



64 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


for to all the abuse, maledictions and strokes of his 
mild wife he never resisted by a kick, a cuff, a 
growl, or even an indignant look. How in the 
world he got the name of Mastiff was a mystery. 
Perhaps, as some said, he borrowed the name from 
his wife, or, if originally he had any of the mastiff 
in him, he resigned it so completely to his lady 
that there was not enough of the bold material left 
as would do to supply a sickly poodle’ of . three 
months of age, not to speak of a mastiff. There 
were many theories on this subject of Faddle’s 
name, but on the principle of Lucus a non lu- 
cendoy"* or as we call a very dark person “ shawn 
bawn^^ or the ‘‘ white-headed boy,” so our country 
merchant was called Mastiff, or some of his fore- 
fathers, if he had any, to remind them of qualities 
in which they were remarkably deficient. But how 
wonderful is the compensating economy of nature. 
If poor Faddle Mastiff was entirely deficient in 
grit, tenacity, or other canine qualities, his only 
daughter Melinda had enough of canine and feline 
qualifications as would make up -for the deficien- 
cies of her ancestors for six generations back, if 
they could be possibly traced. If the mother, the 
“muckle brute,” had the head of a bulldog, and 
the ferocious mouth of a wildcat, the. daughter 
looked like a cross between a wildcat and a fox, 
with the crouching ferocity of a hyena. Both 
mother and daughter were victims of drunkenness, 
and in their sober hours left nothing undone to 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 6$ 

defraud the fools who frequented their den out of 
their money. They adulterated the liquor, thus 
rendering it, such as it was, doubly poisonous ; 
they defrauded the customers in measure and 
weight, as well as of their change, while the old rep- 
robate, the mother, entertained her company with 
all the scandal of the county, and when that failed 
she drew on her own imagination to supply the lack 
of public scandalous news. What made all this 
worse was that Mrs. Mastiff’s house was situated 
in a very public place, within a short distance of 
the church, by the side of a living stream, and day 
or night, Sunday or holiday, she kept her doors 
open, like another public place, whose name I won’t 
write in English. 

Nodes atque dies patet Atri janua DitisA 
It was at this establishment, unfortunately, that 
many of the honest farmers of the Irish settlement 
spent their time and their money, notwithstand- 
ing the repeated denouncement of the place, on ac- 
count of scandals and fights on Sundays, by the 
parish priest. Father John. The Mastiffs were 
strangers in the place, and it was doubtful if they 
were Irish, and no doubt professed to be Catholics 
for gain, and their low character \yas notorious, yet 
the Irish Catholics patronized them and spent 
many of their evenings there, attracted alone by 
• their appetite for stimulating beverages, and some, 
no doubt, to get the latest scandalous news from 
Mother Mastiff! 

5 • . 


66 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


This was the usual meeting-place also for pot- 
politicians who came to “ threat” their constituents 
a few days before election. Travelling peddlers, 
tinmen, and tree hugsters put up with Mrs. Mastiff, 
and some said that counterfeiters and dealers in 
“ bogus” money were at home with her ; but of this 
the writer cannot speak with certainty. It was 
here that the wavering Michael Mulroony was con- 
firmed by the sophistries of Professor Hoskey to 
send his son to the academy to make him into a 
gentleman, and Mrs. Mastiff had near half the 
credit of having changed the opinions of Mulroony? 
for, while the Professor would be delivering himself 
of his “ swelling and gigantic words,” she would be 
mixing the liquors, and would occasionally whisper 
into the honest farmer’s ear, “ Be you said by the 
Professor. Don’t mind what those priests say. 
They are always after the money. See me tryin’ 
to make an honest livin’ and that priest can’t let 
me alone. The Professor will tell you what I am. 
I taught school in this counthry down aist. Take 
my advice and send your son to ’where the Profes- 
sor tells you.” 

That’s my noble lady, Mrs. Mastiff,” interrup- 
ted the Professor. Madam, my friend here has 
sent his son already to the academy, and I can learn 
from that paragon of female education. Miss 
Spoones, that young Mulroony is at the top of the 
literary tree. By the by, Mr. Roony, is not your 
name very awkward? Why not drop the ^ Mul,’ 


PROFIT AND ’LOSS. 


67 


and call it Roony? Mind, how I dropped a prefix 
to my name, which now stands honored at the 
head of all in the keounty. My father was called 
Whiroskey, but I, knowing better the effect of 
euphony, from my superior American education, 
cast off the first part, and now it is genteelly turned 
into what I am called, jnamely. Professor Hoskey. 
Make your son, my friend, to cut off the ‘ Mul,’ and 
one o from Roony, and then it will sound genteel 
— Rony.” 

Deed, Misthur Mulroony, if I was you I would 
do as the Professor says,” added Mrs. Mastiff. 
‘‘Faddle Mastiff, did you feed the pigs and the hens 
to-night?” she said to her husband. ‘‘You are 
dozing there like a fool, so you are.” 

“ Musha, sure I fed ’em, and the cows, and the 
geese, and the mule and the calves.” 

“ Get away into the kitchen then, and wash the 
dishes.” 

“ As I was saying, it might be a good thing to 
change your name, Mr. Mulroony.” 

“ No, not a b’it of it. While I live not one of 
my family shall change their name, except my 
daughter. The Mulroonys have stood a thousand 
years in the ould sod (would I never left it), and I 
hope it will be a thousand years more ere any of 
my descendants will dare to change a letter in our 
old name. If that be what you brought me here 
for to-night. Professor,” he said, — for he had not as 
yet lost his judgment, — “ we had better depart : 
your labor is lost.” 


68 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

Oh, oh! I beg your pardon, Mr. Mulrony.” 

“ Not Mulrony ; but Mulroony, if you please, 
Professor,” interrupted the farmer, with somewhat 
of indignation at the affectation of Hoskey. 

Oh 1 excuse me, I beg your pardon ; this Yan- 
kee tongue of mine, do you see, cannot well take 
in all the superfluous vowels of your Celtic original 
nomenclature. Bring us two more cups of your 
stomach regulators. Madam Mastiff.” 

“ Melinda, fetch two more tumblers of the best 
bitthers ; you know them.” 

“ Thim ones that’s fifteen cents a drink,” asked 
the cute young Mastiff. 

“ Ov course, ’Linda. Those is gintlemin, and 
must get the best. . Faddle, what are you doin’ in 
here again ; run out, I hear them pigs screeching 
in the snow.” 

. “ Musha, ’tis now I put 'a clane bed of sthraw 

undher thim pigs. Do you want to kape me out 
all night on account of ’em?” 

“ Good enough for you. There, gintlemin, is 
the nicest untoxikatin’ bitthers' in the State, 
though the priest says it. is poison, God forgive 
him. I wish that priest would stop praiching.his 
timperince, and mind his own bisiness, and let 
honest people earn an honest living by selling good 
honest liquors, as I do. I wish he would, so 1 
do.” 

“ So I say, too, Mrs. Mastiff, a lady after my 
own heart, give us your hand/’ added the Profes- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


69 


sor. ‘‘Melinda, bring a third tumbler; you 
must have a treat for that sentiment about the 
priest.” 

“ Melinda, don’t bring but a small jigger forme, 
dear, for I have .to jine all the gintlemin who drink 
here. The common people I niver jines in drink- 
ing.” 

. “ Now, Madam Mastiff, here is your very good 
health. I am glad to have one, at least, enlightened 
enough to back me in my ideas about priests 
and preachers. It is this, that they should mind 
their prayers and sermons, but let us gentlemen 
do as we have a mind to, without any dictation. 
I hope you agree to this, my friend Mulroony.”. 

“No, I do not,” answered the farmer, in a 
stammering manner ; for he was already well-nigh 
drunk on the villainous ^//^intoxicating bitters of 
Mrs. Mastiff. “ Priests- have charge of our souls 
from God, or they are no priests ; as for ministers, 
I say nothing about them. But of priests, this I 
know — that — that — they stand in God^s place to 
us in the Church ; and we are. bound to hear, obey 
and respect them, as the servants of God, while 
they do their duty.” 

“ Ay, ay, while they do their duty, I allow,” 
rejoined the Professor. “ But that duty is al- 
together confined to spiritual things.” 

“ Professor,” interrupted Mrs. Mastiff^ “ I deny 
that they can interfere in spirituous liquors^ which 
I sell without much wather.’’ 


70 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Ha ! ha! ha! ” greeted this retort of the now 
muddled Mrs. Mastiff. 

“I agree with you, Madam,” he continued. 

- “Spirituous liquors should be-out of his jurisdic- 
tion to interfere in. Education, also, or anything 
infringing on the province of our laws.” 

“ Stop there now,’’ said the farmer. “You say 
priests should not interfere in education. I say 
they .should. What is religion but the true educa- 
tion? To teach the young man how he shall go, 
and when he is old he will not depart from it.” 

The Professor, seeing that his victim had not 
lost all reasoning powers as yet, continued to fill 
him with his vile beverages, till, like a poor inno- 
cent bird, charmed by the powerful poisonous 
fascination of the anaconda, he became an easy 
conquest to his wicked will. Hence lie had the 
boldness to suggest to the farmer a second time, 
after he was once rebuked, the benefits that would 
accrue to his son in changing his name. The pro- 
posed alteration, he said, would onable the young 
man, after the acquisition of the proper accent at 
the academy, where he was at present pursuing 
his studies, to pass himself for a native, of this 
country. He would thus rid himself of the odium 
of having been of Irish parentage or birth. He 
could next, after having graduated, by means of 
sociables and other popular amusements, be intro- 
duced into polite society. From that the ascent 
was easy through any of the respectable secret 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


71 


orders, such as Knights Templar, Odd Fellows or 
Freemasons, to the highest political and social dis- 
tinctions. 

“ I have already advanced a good many beings 
up the ladder,*’ whispered the Professor, but I am 
alone among all the young men of my kin and 
class, owing to the foolish prejudice of that little 
priest at the Irish settlement, who is ever pitching 
into secret orders, which he knows nothing at all 
about. I wish he would mind his own busi- 
ness.” 

I wish he would, too,” rejoined Mrs. Mastiff, 
arousing herself from a short snooze. “ Shure he 
can’t let me alone to make an honest livin’, and I 
a woman who taught school and knows my juty as 
well as himself. If men get drunk in my house, I 
can’t help it. I give ’um value for thur money. 
I am as honest as the sun, an’ it’s on Sunday I 
makes all mee money. If they comes in here at 
Mass time, I can’t help it. I can’t go to Mass 
myself, though I’m as good a Christian as the 
priest, every bit. I can’t shut up mee house, and 
lose mee customers, even if Mass is goin’ on. 
How onraisonable the priest is. I wish he was 
away, so I do. Did you ever hear. Professor, how 
that priest made me lose this eye, the best one in 
my head ? Yes, he took it out shure.” 

“ He did, eh? No, I never heard how you lost 
your eye. Let us hear how. it occurred; and by 
the priest ? ” 


I 


72 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


‘‘Yes, sure enough, he made me Ipse my best 
eye.” 

“Stop a moment,” interposed the farmer. . “Do 
you mean to tell me, w.oman, that the priest, any 
priest, ever deprived you of your eyesight? By 
George, I want you to prove what you say, or I 
will never darken your door.’' 

“Yes, I will tell you how it happened. Me 
and another ‘lady,’ Mrs. Muggy, one day got into 
a little scrape. We had both a little too much 
taken. That was the fust time in a year I was a 
little tight. Well, we had a hoult of one another 
in the road opposite the church, and she was hol- 
lering and screaming, and the priest was cornin’ up 
the road in his buggy, and then when I saw him I 
started to run, and with that I fell on the ground, 
on my face and eyes, and as I fell, a sharp stump 
struck into my eye, and out it came ; oh, how I did 
suffer ! and I called the. priest to come to me, and 
he went off. And so I lost my eye through the 
priest appearing. That’s the way he made me lose 
my eye.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” even from the Professor, greeted 
this account of Mrs. Mastiff’s losing her eye, be- 
cause the priest chanced to go by at the time that 
she fell. 

It is thus that the visitors at Mrs. Mastiff’s 
were entertained with conversation that would 
disgrace an idiot ; and^ yet, days, weeks, months, 
and years were spent in such frivolous talk in 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


73 


Mastiff’s den of iniquity, where nothing was heard 
but blasphemies, slander and detraction, nothing 
practised but drunkenness, nothing gained, but 
time lost and money squandered, to the ruin of 
many an honest family. It was in this Men’ that 
honest Mkhael Mulroony listened to the insidious 
lessons of unhappy Hoskey. It was here that he 
was unwittingly seduced from his solemn temper- 
ance obligation which he held for so many years 
in Ireland and America. It was here he learned 
to waste his time and his money, and, finally, it was 
here, in the fatal hospice of Mrs. Mastiff, that he 
imbibed from her accursed hand the poisoned 
beverage, under the false name of a temperance 
drink, -which renderedTiim stupid at first, and after- 
wards insensible, so that, on his return home to 
the dear wife of his bosom, his affectionate Peggy, 
he'Was upset with his sled in a snow-bank, where 
he remained all night, and was found early next 
day badly frozen, and with barely the life in him* 




CHAPTER VII. 


A RELIGIOUS “ SOCIABLE” SEANCE. 


HE village of Brighton is situated in the 
centre of a beautiful prairie shaped like a 
parallelogram, in extent about eight miles 
by twelve, and equally divided diagonally 
by a stream of considerable size, called “ Pine 
Creek.” The hamlet looked, at. a distance, very 
bright and picturesque, shining on the prairie on a 
sunny day like a fleet of white-sailed fishing-vessels 
on the ocean’s breast. To one approaching from 
the south or east, the entire village appeared, as it 
were,' raised up from the ground, and apparently 
dancing on the prairie’s surface ; but to those who 
approached from the west or north, it was hidden 
under the shadows of the low hills and deep forests 
which bordered the town in those directions. 

The village contained one or two hotels, several 
grist and lumber mills, the usual number of sec- 
tarian meeting-houses — seven or eight — and three 
school-houses, including the academy. There were 
also published,' though not printed, their two 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


75 


weekly newspapers, continually engaged in a low 
verbal warfare, and yclept, respectively, the Demo- 
cratic Guide and Republican Standard. Besides 
the neat, well-painted stores and shops which lined 
the main street of this enterprising town, there 
were in it also a number of tasty residences, some 
built plainly but substantially, and some aiming at 
the distinction of a mixed Gothic style of architec- 
ture, but all, however, inexpensive, and constructed 
of wood, or frame,” as it is popularly called. 
Among the first, if not the very first, among the 
cottages of this character, was the residence of Mrs. 
Captain Spoones and of her accomplished and 
only daughter. Miss Polly S'poones, the popular 
principal of the village academy, whose praise was 
often the theme of many an eloquent sermon by 
the preachers of all the different denominations in 
the town and country around for miles, and whose 
acquaintance, we presume, the reader has already 
made in previous chapters of this narrative. 

Madame Spoones was the relict of Noah 
Spoones, late Captain of a government gunboat on 
the Mississippi, during the rebellion. He served 
with great gallantry through the late civil contest, 
but just as he had succeeded in earning his laurels 
and filling his Sea Chest” with as much rebel 
booty as it could hold, the gallant captain died of 
small-pox, contracted from a rich cashmere shawl, 
abstracted from the infected wardrobe of a wealthy 
planter’s wife, and which his . desire to present 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


76 

something grand to his own wife induced him to 
pack up with his ample booty of gold and silver. 
Poor, brave hero ! he died a victim to his love of 
making his home elegant and his family fashion- 
able. But Providence cut off his career unexpect- 
edly before he had time to enjoy the fruits of his 
victorious conduct in the navy. If he lost his life 
and two of his sons, and left a wife, who was once 
comely, deformed in features, yet the loss was not 
as ‘‘ unbearable as it might have been,’’ as Elder 
Fribbler said when he preached his funeral sermon, 
for, thank the Lord, his ^ widder^ though she 
lost her beauty by small-pox, saved the captain’s 
chest, and that was one great consolation.’’ It was 
evident to the merest casual visitor that the late 
captain’s chest was saved from the ravages * of 
small-pox or death, for the rooms of “ widder'" 
Spoones’ cottage were literally lined with splendid 
paintings, rich tapestry and costly curtains, while 
the tabl-es . and cupboards groaned under their 
weight of solid silver services, consisting of dishes, 
baskets, pitchers, spoons, knives, forks and platters. 
The captain was under command of General Butler 
for a time, in Louisiana. 

It was here in the cottage that the great open- 
ing “sociable” for the season was inaugurated. 
This one religious gathering gave tone to all the 
others that were to follow, and all were invited 
to be present, and all the world in and around 
Brighton were there, those alone excepted who did 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


77 


not belong to the “ Evangelical ’’ churches, and 
even those, if they presented themselves, would be 
received. All the village preachers were present — 
Bull, Fribbler, Redtop, Squires, Comes and Coons. 
The merchants, of course, and their families, for the 
sake of gaining patronage for their stores, were there. 
The teachers, too, and some of the more advanced 
students, and among them our young friend Pat- 
rick Mulroony. All the pretty girls from a range 
of ten miles around were there, and many young 
men from twenty and thirty miles distance, the 
most remarkable among whom was a young Irish- 
American, named Nicholas Reardon, who never 
missed being present at any place where there was 
fun within fifty miles of his home. “ Nick,” as he 
was called, drove a splendid team of dark iron-gray 
horses before an elegant sleigh, well cushioned and 
robed, and hence he never wanted company in his 
wide wanderings in search of that fun he so dearly 
loved, and which seemed ever to play on his comic, 
laughing countenance. No matter wliether it was 
at camp-meeting or at protracted meeting, at ball 
or sociable, at spelling-school or singing-school, at a 
revival or a love-feast, at picnic or church fair, or 
Sunday-school excursion, or any other such haunts 
of pleasure, “ Nick” was sure to be present, and 
always at the “ nick of time” to escort thereto or 
therefrom any nice young ladies who wanted to ride. 
Nicholas Reardon was the only son of a wealthy 
Irish Catholic, from the Wisconsin side of the St. 
Croix, who gave him his own way, very imprudently 


78 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


imagining that children were as easily trained in 
this as in the old country. The young lad was, of 
course, nominally a Catholic, and though known as 
such,, and regarded as a right good fellow,’’ and the 
very antipodes of a shining Methodist, for his 
laughing face was a perpetual protest against hypoc- 
risy, yet he was received cordially, and welcomed 
as one of themselves, at all the “ sociables,” “ quilt- 
ing-bees” and auxiliary contrivances of Methodism. 

Once on a time, when Elder Bull, who often 
remarked, regarding Reardon, he will be one of us 
yet,^’ making bold on “ Nick,” invited him to come 
to his meeting-house to hear him (Bull) preach, 
adding as an attraction that “ he could get acquain- 
ted with very nice girls in his church, at the late 
services,” Nicholas replied by saying, “No, I 
don’t want to practise hypocrisy in getting acquain- 
ted with young women. I am not Methodist enough 
for that. I am acquainted already with as many 
girls as I want. I can beat your preaching all to 
pieces in making acquaintance of young ladies by 
my fast-trotting horses, cushioned cutter, and warm, 
well-lined wolf-robes. I rely on the real wolf-skins, 
rather than trust in your wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing 
suit in taking in the girls, ha ! ha I ha ! ” 

This rather severe rebuke on the kind preacher’s 
well-meaning inducements to young Reardon to 
join his sect, through a channel which he thought 
would reach his predominant passion, discouraged 
the preacher very much, and ought to have taught 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


79 


him that Ifish-Americans, though they may become 
indifferent or reckless, are not easily drawn within 
the meshes of such transparent humbugs as a 
Methodistic “ getting religion” profession. 

This evening at Miss Spoones’ “ sociable’’ there 
was a rivalry apparent in the crowd in regard to 
the popularity of two young Irish-Americans, Mul- 
roony and Reardon. The young men themselves, 
however, were unconscious that they were made 
the heroes of this petty religious social gathering. 
The opinions and the interest which the crowd at 
this sociable” took in those two iniprudent young 
men were divided in a marked manner between 
both of them. The most lively and pleasant of the 
young ladies present, if we except Miss Spoones 
and a few old maids, were clustered in a close bevy 
around the circle which had Reardon for its centre ; 
while all the preachers — except Redtop, who was 
jealous of our hero — and the most remarkable peo- 
ple for piety, so called, loo.ked up to, encouraged, 
flattered and hung on the smiles of Mr. P. M. 
Ronay, the. talented young student, as they called 
him. All that loved ‘‘ fun and frolic” were around 
the devil-may-care driver of fast horses, Nick,” 
but all who sighed for the extension of the borders 
of ‘‘ shaky Methodism” by adding to its numbers 
through conversion — all these were gathered around 
our young student. True, Mulroony, or Ronay as 
they called him, was much more reserved and 
silent than his rollicking compatriot, Reardon, and 


8o 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


provoked not a tenth of the laughter and mer- 
riment of the latter. But the former was a 
much more handsome fellow, though shy, and he 
was infinitely better educated than funny Nicholas. 
Besides, Mulroony, on the very forenoon of this 
evening, had won a prize of fifty dollars, .offered by 
a merchant from St. Paul to ^ the student who 
would solve in the shortest time a difficult problem 
in algebra, proposed by him to the most advanced 
class in the academy. It took our young student 
but twenty minutes to work the problem, while 
six others in his class spent half a day in the vain 
effort to solve the puzzling question proposed. 
This smartness of the young American was the 
theme for hours of the conversation of the most 
grave portion of the party. The night was getting 
late, however, and the elders thought it was time 
to introduce piety. The young people had had 
enough, the holy men thought, of fun during the 
several hours enjoyed by them in games of “ for- 
feits,” the needle’s eye,” fairlanders,” Johnny 
Brown,” the “ old soldiers,” and hide and . seek,” 
in all of which plays, scenes not very modest hap- 
pened. Now was it not time^ to bring religion on 
the stage ? 

And after allowing scenes and actions among 
a promiscuous crowd of young people of both 
sexes that would not be out of place in any of 
the ancient temples of the Egyptian goddesses, 
these pious men of different religious sects intro- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


8l 


duced their discordant chanting of Methodist 
melody by such ludicrous hymns as the follow- 
ing: 

‘^Come, ye sisters, . are you ready, 

Are you ready. 

Are you ready, 

Come, ye sisters, are you ready. 

With halleluia to praise the Lord? 

“ Yes, my brothers, we are ready, 

We are ready. 

We are ready. 

Yes, my brothers, we are ready. 

With halleluia to praise the Lord,” etc. 

The sociables” of Miss Spoones broke up 
after midnight. Some of the girls were in glori- 
ous confusion while searching for their “ things” in 
the room where they divested themselves of furs, 
hats and shawls in the evening. Others were 
helped to the sleighs by the boys, while others, 
already snugly wrapped in buffalo and wolf furs, 
were being driven home, at which they did not 
expect to arrive till daylight, behind fast horses, 
and in the company of fast young men ! 

And this is a specimen of the machinery by 
which sectarian churches manage to keep up an 
appearance of members and respectability. Yes, 
there is the “ sociable,” the “ camp-meeting,” 
the nocturnal “singing-school,” the “night spell- 
ing-school,” the “ picnic excursion to the woods,” 
the “ sewing-circle,” and, we may add, the com- 
6 


82 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


mon State schools — these are the seven sources 
from which sectarianism, and especially Metho- 
dism, expects to draft the auxiliaries to their 
legions of deluded followers. 

Methodism, what a phenomenon in the varie- 
gated history of the delusions of the human mind ! 
It is called Methodism, and yet it has neither 
method nor order. It is called a church, though 
it has neither a fixed creed nor decent hierarchy. 
It is called a religion, and yet it neither binds nor 
unites men to their Creator, nor to one another, 
for any man may become a communicant thereof, 
if he says he believes in a Supreme Being. In the 
old pagan -times there were as many temples as 
there were vices, for avarice, lust and cruelty were 
worshipped ; but all vices in modern times, with a 
few virtues, are blended up together, and they 
have but one religion, and that is Methodism. 
For in the most benighted pagan times never had 
avarice, carnal love, vanity, pride and hypocrisy 
more zealous adorers than at your sociables, camp- 
meetings and revivals. But, if you insist on call- 
ing the gigantic organization of Methodism a 
religion, then let it be called • the religion, the 
nursery, the paradise of the animal passions, where 
the lowest instincts of our fallen nature find con- 
genial nourishment and support. The old Romans 
worshipped all the gods, and erected the magnifi- 
cent Pantheon to carry out that idea. But all the 
gods, from Jupiter and Juno to Priapus, can find a 


PROFIT AND LOSS: . 


83 


congenial atmosphere in the liberal enclosure of 
modern Methodism. And this happens in all the 
ravishing enlightenment of the nineteenth century, 
O temporay 0 mores I ” 




CHAPTEK VIII. 

INSTANCE OF RELIGIOUS COURTSHIP. 

ISS POLLY SPOONES was a very interest- 
ing young lady of very pleasing manners, 
of decided accomplishments, but of very un- 
certain age. All that can be with certainty 
stated was, that she was not under twenty years, for 
she confessed to this herself, nor over forty, for 
those who described her as an old thing” allowed 
that she lacked a few months of being two score 
years. She "had a pleasing regularity of features 
answering to what we call a comely young woman, 
in all but her left eye, which squinted a little. 
She was what they call a blonde ; but, her hair hav^ 
ing been kept cropped so closely, and what remained 
on her scalp being so saturated with oil, if not with 
pigment, it was difficult to tell what was. its original 
natural color. Her figure was rather short and in- 
clining to what is called embonpoint^ and her bulk 
was further aggravated by the. profusion of flounces, 
ruffles and puffs which surrounded her in various 
folds. She was the very* antipodes of Rev. Elder 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


85 


Red^op, her betrothed, who has called the morning 
of the next day after the “ sociable.” Poor, pious 
man, he appeared like a person half-crazy since the 
night of the sociable. His Polly, he thought, had 
not only slighted him, but become totally estranged 
through the winning graces of the young student — 
successful competitor for the prize problem. And 
then again, she was all in the student’s favor, prais- 
ing his talents as if she wanted to take credit to her- 
self for his shining parts. He could stand all this, 
however, supported as he was by his sanctity^ for 
was he not a licensed preacher ? but, when he saw 
at the games and plays how Miss Polly wholly mo- 
nopolized the student, and, especially in the play of 
forfeits, he saw her boldly go up and kiss the young 
blushing student with such coolness, as if she was 
used to do it often, and the young man compara- 
tively a stranger, whereas his reverend self was her 
lover for over four years ; all these considerations 
put him nearly beside himself, and that was his 
reason for quitting the ‘‘ sociable” before the night 
was half spent. 

Brother Redtop was a tall, lank young man ; 
we must call him, through courtesy, of a melancholy 
aspect. He. wore a profusion of thick red hair on 
his head and neck, but this is not why he was called 
Redtop. His father and ancestors bore the same 
name, but it seems Nature, like a good poet, who, 
in his description, makes the sound and sense of his 
verse to correspond, had adorned our Elder with a 


86 


PROFIT AND LOSS. . 


red head, to agree with his euphonious name,SR.ed- 
top. His forehead was very low and narrow, owing, 
no doubt, to the encroachment of his rich, shining 
hair. But if nature was a niggard in giving him a 
forehead, she compensated for its loss by giving 
him an extra large face. It might be said, without 
much exaggeration, that if his forehead had only 
inches in it, his face was almost acres in extent. 
His eyes were small, and sunk deep in his head ; 
but then he had enormous ears, the helix and anti- 
helix of which seemed to be large enough to form 
the rampart for a respectable fort, while the lobes 
were so heavy and large as to be able to carry an 
ear-ring as thick as an ordinary crowbar. His neck, 
which was almost square in form, was of a brick color, 
and looked like a baked tile for a subsoil drain, while 
his nose was a sharp pug, with his nostrils turned up 
and almost looking vis-a-vis” into his eyes. His 
hoarse, chronic cough, at Mrs. Spoones’ cottage, 
was the first intimation the inmates had of Brother 
Redtop’s approach, and soon after, without waiting 
to knock or pull the bell, he entered the hall, where, 
having met the old lady of the house, he immedi- 
ately asked to see Miss Spoones. 

Just go into the sitting-room, Brother,” the 
old lady said, “ till I call Polly, who has not come 
downstairs yet. She was up so late for the last 
two nights. Polly, dear,” she cried in a loud voice, 
“ make haste down. Brother Redtop wishes to see 
you.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


87 

“ What ! ” she answered, “ so early, and it not 
eight o’clock yet ? I can’t be ready to see any- 
body till after eight, ma.” 

“ Indeed,” muttered the divine to himself, . 
‘‘she is becoming mighty particular. I saw the 
time she would run downstairs to see me without 
waiting for the fixing of her waterfall. Well, well, 
well ! ” Then he stood up, looked around the walls 
of the room, scanned the paintings and elegant 
lithographic pictures, but saw nothing that attrac- 
ted his attention as much as a painting represent- 
ing the marriage of Jacob and Rachel, and here 
he thought how foolish it was in him not to have 
got married years since. He looked into the grand 
pier glass, examined his physiognomy, and mut- 
tered to himself, “ I am really getting old and 
gray,’’ and listened, when he heard a noise up 
stairs, to learn if hfs intended was descending. 
But no, those steps were her mother’s, who had 
been up to talk to her daughter, to urge her to 
speed. “ She is not acoming,” he said, impa- 
tiently. Then walking around the room, he picked 
at the beard that grew upon his cheeks near his 
eyes, erected his ears, again listened, but no ap- 
pearance still. 

Finally he sat down, opened the Bible, read the 
seventh chapter of St. Paul to the Corinthians, where, 
among other things, he read these words : “ But 
I say to the unmarried and to the widows, it is 
good for them if they so continue, even as I.” 


88 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


But this poor, sad preacher of the Gospel, as he 
called himself, was blinded, and could not see, 
owing to the violence of the carnal flame that 
impurely smouldered in his heart, and filled him 
with the rage of jealousy and concupiscence.. He 
shut up the Bible, walked around the room again, 
and still there was no appearance. Finally he 
looked at his watch, saw that he had waited three- 
quarters of an hour, and taking up his hat and the 
umbrella which he carried, he opened the door 
to depart, when who should slide downstairs but 
Miss' Spoones, who said : • 

Why, Brother Redtop, what on earth induced 
you to call so early? This is a very unusual hour 
to make a visit ; come back and be seated.’' 

“ Well, my dear, you must excuse me for inter- 
rupting you, and probably breaking in on the 
pleasant dreams you were having after your happy 
party last night. I call this morning. Miss, on bus- 
iness, and that must be my apology for interrupt- 
ing you.” 

“Well, you are excused. What’s the matter, 
or can I help you to anything?” 

“You can undoubtedly help me, but whether 
you will do so is what I am in doubt of, and what 
has brought me here this morning.” 

“Well, Brother, come to the point at once. 
What’s your wish ? ” 

“ My wish is, my dear betrothed wife — that you 
are and have been these four years last past — that 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


89 

you give up paying attentions to any other young 
man except me, or that something very disagree- 
able will happen. I will bring the case before the 
conference.” 

“ Why, Redtpp, you are losing whatever little 
sense you ever had, if you ever had any. I pay- 
ing attentions to young men ! How can you talk 
so, sir? ” 

“ How can you deny that you were, at the ‘ so- 
ciable,’ all attention on that young Irish popish 
fop, whom, to gain his favor no doubt, you assisted 
to solve that problem in algebra? ” ' 

“ That’s not so, Redtop ; I did not aid him to, ' 
solve that question. He did it himself, for he is 
a young gentleman of uncommon genius. I see it 
all, you are jealous, that’s what’s the matter.” 

I am not jealous ; no, far from it. But if 
the Lord had not given me strength above meas- 
ure I might have been jealous, for did I not see 
you cling to that young man like a leech ? How 
often did you not make out to kiss him during the 
play of forfeits at the sociable?” 

“ Why, you uncouth old stick, you, who would 
notice what happens in that innocent play of for- 
feits except a crazy, jealous fellow ? Fie, fie ; I 
thought you had more sense. Did you never kiss 
any young ladies at that play of forfeits, eh ? ” 

‘‘Yes, of course I did, and a thousand times, 
but that is different in your case. We are engaged 
to be married as soon as I get a call to a congrega- 
tion, and you ought to behave yourself as if you 


90 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


were my marrie.d wife. But now a handsome 
young fellow, a stranger, comes to the neighbor- 
hood, and you become at once his patron, his 
teacher and his advocate. Why, when, the other 
week, he almost slaughtered several of the boys at 
'School, and nearly finished Elder Bull’s son, you 
stood up for this lad against all the trustees of the 
academy.” 

Yes, and I would do so again. Why did they 
not let him alone?” 

Well, I come now to bring this matter to a 
close, or to make an end of it. I want you to be 
ready to marry me in eight days from now, no 
matter whether I get an appointment to a congre- 
gation or not. This is coming down to the point 
of the question. Miss Spoones. I want an immedi- 
ate answer, ^ Yes' or ‘No' to this^ interrogatory.” 

‘‘Well, Brother, I cannot agree with you at all 
on those terms. I cannot leave the academy till 
after this term is out. And you know it is only 
as long as I remain single that I am to have this 
respectable situation.” 

“ I would not be so urgent but for all the talk 
there is about you and this plagued young man.” 

“What do we care for talk? If I take an 
interest in that young man,” she said with a wink 
at Redtop, “ it is, believe me — your own intended 
wife — with a view to effect a purpose that will not 
only confer honor on me, but perhaps on you as 
my husband, who will have the credit of making a 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


91 


convert of this young, talented Catholic, and thus, 
perhaps, be the means of converting the thousands 
of his race and country that are scattered over 
our young State. There is rny hand to you. Red-* 
top, that I shall , be true to you, as far as your and 
my interests will permit.” This speech had the 
desired effect. Poor Redtop was satisfied. The 
tears ran down his parched cheeks. They em- 
braced warmly. Breakfast was announced, and 
the melancholy divine drowned his sorrows for 
the time being in a good large bowl of hot coffee, 
with the more solid accompaniments of beefsteak 
and milk-toast. 

Aniantium ircB mnoris redintegratioA 
When the consoled preacher left the comfort- 
able mansion of Madam Spoones that morning, 
he entertained a more ardent love for his intended 
than he ever felt before ; wonderful result of a 
good breakfast of hot coffee and toast, and the • 
affectionate words of Miss Spoones. But though 
he felt rather happy, he was not satisfied with his 
feelings. He wished to be doubly sure of his prize, 
to have his reason convinced, as well as his heart 
satisfied, regarding the reality of the love of his 
intended. So, instead of going directly home to his 
lodgings over the village drug store, where he had 
his few books, called a library, and his bed, he 
wended his way to the farthest end of the village, 
to a family named Brooder, who were spirit-rap- 
pers, and where, there was then stopping a noted 


92 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


female medium who was ready, for a consideration, 
to reveal all future events of this or the next life. 

Brother Redtop, in going to consult the “spir- 
its,” hoped that he could be able to speak to the 
medium without being seen by the family with 
whom she lodged. He was disappointed in this, . 
however, and had to make known, through Mrs. 
Brooder, what was his business with the medium. 
He thought next to get to see the medium under 
pretence of preaching Methodism to her; but in 
this, too, he was disappointed, for the medium 
“ n^eant business.” She sent word to the preacher 
that she had no desire to hear what she called 
“Methodist humbug.” So Redtop, like Saul, if 
we may compare small things with great, had to 
put off his subterfuge and pretended disguises, 
and besides, to pay his one dollar cash down, ere 
the medium would open her mouth about his 
troubles. He paid the money, however, though 
very reluctantly, for he was very short of that 
article, and having begged that the matter of his 
visit should remain a secret, to the public at least, he 
was introduced into a dark room, dimly illumined 
by artificial hght, and, seating himself opposite the 
veiled medium, he heard the tap, tap, tap, on the 
small square table which separated him from her ' 
through whom the spirits revealed their secrets. 
Poor Brother Redtop could not, of course, inter- 
pret the raps either for or against his luck ; but the 
medium, after taking a slate, on which with a pencil 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


93 


she had marked or registered the raps and shakes 
of the table, went into an inner room, and in a few 
minutes she returned with a small sealed envelope 
in which the spirits, through the medium, had 
written the oracles regarding the intended marriage, 
at least, of Rev. Elder Redtop. When he emerged 
from the abode of the spirits he was covered over 
with perspiration, partly owing to the confined air 
and strange noises he heard, and partly through 
fear that any of the good Methodist people should 
see him emerging from a house, the inmates of 
which he had so often denounced in his sermons, 
as no better than infidels. After having taken a 
rapid survey of the street before and behind him, 
and hearing a titter as of women who mocked at 
him, he rushed forward at a rapid pace, and did 
not relax or halt until he reached his study over 
the drug store in the upper part of the village. 
Being in a great heat from the walk, and the room 
being overheated, he threw off his coat, and tak- 
ing hold of. the letter which stood in his vest 
pocket, he had just torn the envelope to read the 
contents, when, who should enter, without knock- 
ing, but Elder Bull, the presiding elder, as he is 
called. 

‘‘ Beg pardon. Brother Redtop, for coming in 
without knocking. I want you to preach for me 
next Sabbath, as I am going to St. Paul to elec- 
tioneer. I am going to run for the Legislature. 
You know those papists are going hard to try and 


94 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


control our schools. Now is our time to put them 
down, you see. There is no use to preach to them. 
They won’t listen to us. We must put ’em down 
by law. Now we have a good chance. The Presi- 
dent and his wife are Methodists, and if we can get 
a majority of our folks in, we could re-elect the 
President, and elect him again and again, and per- 
haps put him in for life, and then we coifld have 
the game in our own hands. Perhaps the Metho- 
dist may become the established religion of the 
country. Do you see ?’’ 

‘‘That would be a grand thing indeed,” added' 
Brother Redtop. 

“Yes, no doubt of it. If I can go into the 
Legislature I will do something for the cause, and 
then you can have that congregation at Stony 
Creek. Then, my old boy, you will be in clover, 
living with your wife instead of being cooped up 
here alone like a monk.” ^ 

“ Indeed I am tired of this solitary way of living. 

I shall willingly supply your pulpit next Sabbath,” 
said Redtop. 

“ That’s a good fellow. I will go now. Oh ! • 
sure, T nearly forgot^ You must preach next Sab- 
bath against those spiritualists. They are taking 
multitudes of our people off by their devilish tricks. 
That’s your theme now, for you. Brother Redtop.” 

“ Well, I fear I am not well posted on Spiritual- 
ism. I had intended to pitch into the Catholics 
next Sabbath, on account of something I have 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


95 


heard regarding their designs on our public schools. 
They want to have separate schools for their 
children, a thing that would very much favor their 
church. They must not be allowed to have sepa- 
rate schools. This is what I would like to preach 
on, next Sabbath ; and, besides the good that it 
would do our society to prejudice the minds of 
our people against Catholics, I would like this 
theme from the fact that I have preached on it so 
often, that I need not be afraid of failing on it 
again.’’ 

That’s all right. There is a time for all things, 
as the Bible says. You will have plenty of chances 
to preach against the Catholics ; but now I want 
you to preach against the Spiritualists, for many 
of our best people are joining them. Even here in 
this village the Jones, the McBeth and Brice fami- 
lies have joined them. Good-bye, Brother, till I 
see you again.” 

This is truly a singular business. I am 
ordered to preach against a sect or system with 
which I have just been holding communion bn 
very important business. What if I have been 
observed by any person coming away from the 
medium’s residence, or if any of the family should 
be present in meeting while I am denouncing what 
I myself patronized a day or two before? Well, I 
must only take pattern by our great founder, Wes- 
ley, who never retracted, his words, true or false. 

I am reproached with having consulted the spirits. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


96 

I must say that I did it to detect their errors and 
wickedness, that. I sought ocular demonstration of 
their guilt. Even if I speak what is not true, I 
must stick to it, true or false, and repeat, repeat 
and repeat it over again, till I ’ compel men to 
believe it, true or false.” 

It was thus that our pious Brother Redtop 
soliloquized ere he again, having fastened the door, 
consulted the letter from the spirits, which con- 
tained the revelation of the happiness or misfortune 
that was to be the lot in his intended marriage 
with his betrothed. Miss Spoones. The contents 
of the letter will be given in a future chapter of 
this history. 




CHAPTER IX. 

i-MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF AN INTERESTING YOUNG 
LADY. 

HERE are many ways for a female to earn a 
livelihood besides scrubbing, washing dishes 
or mending stockings. So thought Miss 
Lizzie Skinner, of the village of Brighton. 
Miss Skinner was a lady who for over twenty 
years filled a prominent place in the public regard 
in her native village. She had been a teacher in 
the common schools, as well as Sabbath schools. 
She was a “class- leader,” as well as a leader in all 
the contrivances to promote the spread of Meth- 
odism, whether among the benighted pagans of In- 
dia or Africa, or the unregenerate multitudes of 
her own countrymen at home. She was the most 
prominent person at sewing societies, sociables, 
camp-meetings, fairs, and religious excursions and 
picnics. In fact she was regarded as the soul qf 
Methodism in the county. She was literally looked 
on as an institution necessary to the success of the 
spread of the tenets of the noisy sect. Such was 
7 




98 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Miss Skinner twenty years ago. But those times 
were the “ golden age” in her life. All her popular- 
ity commenced, flourished and showed signs of 
waning, too, in. the pioneer times gone by. There 
were no railroads then in those parts, no sewing- 
machines, no telegraph-wires, no woman’s .rights 
conventions then to fall back upon for popularity, 
and hence she that was a heroine at that period, in 
all her bloom and all her influence, now, when all 
these things — modern progress — advanced. Miss 
Skinner found out, alas, too late! that she, too, 
was beginning to be slighted. Fuit Ilium F- She 
was not the same in influence and importance, no 
more than in beauty and gracefulness, and she very 
gradually discovered a thing she never before feared 
or suspected, namely, that she was only ah old maid. 
When other and brighter stars appeared on the 
popular firmament, her glories were not only 
dimmed, but almost extinguished. She struggled 
hard to maintain her social ascendency by appeal- 
ing to her experience, and recalling what she had 
done in the hard times in the past. But they only 
smiled at her. Even the preachers whom she had 
supplied for years with scented white pocket-hand- 
kerchiefs to use for preaching in the pulpit,, and 
whose empty pews she had often helped to fill with 
hearers, even they ridiculed her at sociables, calling 
her “ the poor, fussy Miss Skinner, poor thing ! ” 
The crowd which once hung around her now dropped 
off to hang on the swelling skirts of Miss Spobnes, 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


99 


or other budding beauties, literally turning their 
backs on our once celebrated beauty, Miss Skinner. 
She knew very well this was a fast country, but she 
had no conception that in the rapid progress of 
society she herself would be so soon neglected, 
despised, forgotten. Such is the fact, unquestion- 
ably, regarding the popularity of most women, 
and even men, in modern progressive society. No 
sooner does one wrinkle manifest itself on the fair- 
est cheek of beauty, or one gray hair appear on the 
temples of noblest genius, than the tide of the 
fickle, popular applause is instantly reversed, and 
the croaking cries of “ old fogy ’’ or “ old maid ” are 
heard grating on the refined ear. Woe be to those 
who are popular to-day, either through moral or 
physical accomplishments, and who vainly hope 
that they shall continue popular forever I The- 
more elevated their ascent, the more painful will be 
their fall, as fall they must, if they entrust them- 
selves to the treacherous breezes of popularity. 
What happened to Miss Skinner on a small scale, 
will assuredly happen to the “ biggest bug’’ of 
them all, who live on breathing, and aim at ascend- 
ing into, the pleasant atmosphere of human glory 
by means of the light attenuated gas of popular 
favor. To most persons of this class we describe, 
it happens that they rise a little, then their ascent 
becomes stationary, till, like an exhausted balloon, 
they sink into inferior darkness, never to rise again. 

Miss Skinner, however, was resolved that this 


lOO 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


should not be her fate. The society which she 
had so long served, and in a manner controlled, 
she clearly saw now rejected her as a useless mem- 
ber, in fact regarded her a “ bore,” and she was de- 
termined to be revenged on society, if she could not 
regain her former place in its favor. She accord- 
ingly took her measures and matured her plans to 
be ‘‘ even with them all, or lose a fall by it,” as she 
stated to her cousin. Miss Spoones, whom alone 
she initiated into the secret of the course, which, 
after deep thought and mature .deliberation, she 
was resolved to enter upon. 

On a certain Fourth of July, somewhat less 
than two years before the occurrences related in 
the few- preceding chapters of this history, there 
was a grand celebration at Brighton, with flags, 
music, salutes of artillery, and fireworks, and, in 
addition, a circus ; ^11 of which attracted a very 
large crowd of people from the country within a 
distance of twenty miles around, and it was on this 
very day, a year last past July, that Miss Skinner 
disappeared from the society of her native village. 

After the day of the noisy national festival, it 
began to be asked among the ladies, “ Wonder 
what has become of Liz Skinner? She hasn’t 
been round since the Fourth.” 

The general answer to the inquiry was : Oh ! 
she will turn up all right yet, I warrant you. 
There ain’t no fears that anybody fell in love and 
ran off with the like of her.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


lOI 


‘‘ That is likely enough not to have happened, 
but yet her cousin, Polly Spoones, knows nothing, 
she says, of her whereabouts, and her friends are 
getting alarmed about her. Perhaps those wicked, 
wild circus men took her off, or, may be, murdered 
her.” 

“ Don’t you be uneasy on that matter. When 
circus' men carry off young women, the rascals 
never mistake such tottering institutions as Lizzy ^ 
Skinner for one of those young ladies.” 

Time went on for another week or two, and, as 
the absconding lady did not appear, then the pub- 
lic curiosity became excited, and all sorts of stories 
were put in circulation regarding the young 
woman’s sudden disappearance. Some stated that 
they saw her walking with a young man on the 
bank of the river close to the mill-dam, on the day 
of the celebration. They said the river ought to 
be dragged. Others were sure they saw her in a 
buggy with a gentleman, riding at full Speed 
towards the Mississippi, and that it looked like an 
elopement, for they were going for the steamboat 
that passed south at noon. Most people discredited 
this story, while all were sure that foul play,” 
somehow or other, had something to do with the 
amiable young lady’s disappearance. On the 
third Sunday after the mysterious event all the 
preachers had it as a welcome subject for sermon, 
prayer and comment. The “ Lord ” was appealed 
to very powerfully, after having been informed by 


102 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the preachers of what had happened,' to restore 
her to her friends and the Christian community, 
whether she had been carried off by circus men, or 
abducted by Jesuits or Popish priests, for the pious 
men could not believe that any human being 
around here would be so diabolical as to murder 
such an amiable lady. 

“ Oh, ho ! then there was a clue to the finding 
out where Miss Skinner was,” said Mrs. Nugget 
to Madam Spoones. ‘‘ Did you hear what Elder 
Fribbler said last Sabbath, after returning home 
from conference from the city' of Chicago, where 
he got the nomination for the church of Stony 
Creek?” . ' • 

No, I did not, for I seldom go to meeting of 
late, owing to my rheumatiz. What did he say ? ” 

“ He said, as distinct as I say it to you, loud 
enough to make me hear even' in rny deaf ear, that 
the Jesuits abducted Liz Skinner.” 

“ He did, did he ? ” 

Yes, he did. Did not Polly tell you all about 
the sermon?” 

“ No, Polly was not at meeting. She was out 
very late last night, riding with a young gentleman 
who accompanied her to the ball at the Railroad 
Hotel.” 

‘‘ Oh, there will be terrible work. I’m thinkin’. 
It is certain that the Catholic priest, they call him 
Father John, was in our village on the Fourth of 
July, and that is the very day that Liz disappeared. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


103 


She was seen ridin’ with a gintleman, most likely 
the priest in disguise, and drivin’ like lightnin’ to- 
ward the steamboat landin’. They say she must be 
gagged, or she would holler, sure. She is now, most 
likely, locked up in a cell in one of those convents 
in the city of Dubuque or St. Louis.” 

“ Why, T she is, she is safe enough, for can’t 
they be searched to find her there ? ” 

Those ^ dreadful convents! Very doubtful. 
There are so many underground cells, and locks, 
and bolts, and chains and all thim things. Elder 
Fribbler tells me that if one is got in there they 
never can get. out, tin to one.” 

“Polly, did you hear the news ? ” asked her 
•mother of our academy principal, as she came down- 
stairs about ten o’clock on the morning in question. 

“No, mother, what is it ? ’’ 

“Mrs. Nugget tells me that all the ministers 
yesterday, at night meeting, gave out that the 
papists got Lizzy, your cousin, for certain, in those 
convents in the city.’’ 

“Oh, mother! oh dear, dear! I can’t believe 
that they could say so without any evidence.” 

“ Yes, Madam, they did say so,” answered Mrs. 
Nugget, “ for I was present and heard every word, 
notwithstanding that I am a little hard of hearing. 
And there is no doubt of it, for the Catholic priest 
was in our village all that day she disappeared, or 
rather was stolen off, for such a sensible girl as she 
would not go unless force was used ; not she.” 


104 


PROFIT A ND LOSS. 


‘‘ Of course I don’t deny but the Elders will 
give some intimation of what you say; nor do I 
deny that the Catholic priest was in town. But 
sure that’s no proof that he abducted my cousin. 
My dear, that priest is in town mostly every day, 
for there are several Catholic families in the village 
at present, and ever since the railway has com- 
menced to be built. I know of course that cousin 
Lizzy has disappeared, but she was not so silly as 
to allow herself to be abducted in the broad day- 
light, and by a priest who was all day in town.” 

“Well, Miss Spoones, you can have your own 
opinion,” rejoined Mrs. Nugget, “but as for me, 
I will believe what our holy preachers say, and all 
the world say, is so, than give in to what you state. 
You were not at the meeting yesterday. Good- 
bye, all,’’ she added, departing rather huffed. 

The excitement continued ; anything and every- 
thing was stated as “facts as clear as day” among 
the people. The local newspapers next took 
up the popular chorus of “ foul play,’’ “ abduc- 
tion,” “popish plots,” “convent cells and chains, 
and locks and tortures.” “ Vires acquirit eundo.'^ 
The hint thrown out from the truth-delling lips of a 
preacher, just merely a little chaff, blown by his 
breath from the well-filled store-house of his false 
heart, soon flies from mouth to mouth, from house 
to house, from village to village, from State, to 
State, ever increasing, multiplying and gathering 
strength, till the whple intellectual atmosphere is 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


105 


blinded with the haze, bluster and dust of it; and 
what originated in a lying whisper of a silly fanatic 
or two is received all over the land with the deaf- 
ening chorus of a well-known, acknowledged truth. 
It flies on the wings of lightning, that a Protestant 
lady has been abducted by the Jesuits. The news 
is spread simultaneously in all the capitals of the 
civilized world, and among all the nations of the 
earth. The sectarian journals write long homilies 
on the spirit of popery so dangerous to “our lib- 
erties.’’ The secular press take the subject up 
again, learning that the people want to read of 
that abduction case in the Northwest ; for they want, 
in order to make money, to pander to the popular 
frenzy. Meetings are held in the large Eastern 
cities. “ Cooper Institute” and “ Fanueil Hall” 
resound, for the thousand and one time, to the 
hoarse voices of preachers of every sect,, denounc- 
ing the dangerous aggressions of popery, of which 
this most aggravated instance of the abduction of 
Miss Skinner is the strongest proof. Money is 
subscribed liberally by old misers. Protestant 
leagues against popery are organized. Petitions 
and resolutions are drafted to be presented to 
State Legislatures. Many moderate politicians, 
even, are of opinion that the Know-Nothing 
lodges ought to be revived again, for that this case 
of the abduction of a pious young lady, so as to 
lock her up in a convent, is occasion serious enough 
for the most extreme measures. This is proof 


I06 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

enough, ’tis as clear as daylight that our liberties 
are in danger. The Romans will subvert our gov- 
ernment, and they must be resisted. 

It is not singular that all these sects who attack 
the Catholic Church, seldom or never say, “ Let us 
exterminate that institution, for no person can be 
saved who follows the Catholic faith and practice.” 
No, no, they do not mean this thing; or perhaps 
they do not care what becomes of men’s souls here- 
after. 

The sectarian preachers say exactly as the Phar- 
isees of old said of Christ : “ Let him be done 

away with, or the people will believe in him, and 
the ‘ Romans will take our country.’ ” • 

Romani venient et tollent nostrum locum et 
gentemR 

The very same words almost all the sects say 
to-day that the Jews did of old. 

‘‘ The Catholics will gain all our people to their 
church, and rule our country.’’ This is the bug- 
bear that is held up to frighten old women and 
nervous, hysterical young ladies. 

In vain the Catholic press, so feeble in its 
influence, for the want of support, set about con- 
tradicting the wild stories about the abduction 
of Miss Skinner. In vain they pointed out the 
absurdity of such a tale as the abduction of a poor, 
useless old maid, whom her own friends and her 
own society discarded as an eccentric, odd female. 

In vain they asked, what could be the object 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


107 . 


of such ain abduction. How could it be effected 
in the middle of a long, bright, sunny day, in 
the middle of summer, with few or no Catholics 
present ? This was all too late. The harm was 
done ; the impression made. All the whole world, 
outside the Catholic Church, received the story, 
and believed it no absurdity. And there was no 
power on earth, of the earth, that could now, 
remove the false impression, correct the mistake, 
re-establish the truth in the millions of hearts in 
which falsehood had replaced her. So that, to the 
very end of their lives, and probably till the day of 
Judgment, the Satanic misstatement that origina- 
ted in the heart of a cunning preacher of the Gos- 
pel, as he pretended to be, will be received and 
believed by millions of men as the very truth of 
God. This is a sad state of things, and instances 
of such popular delusions surely are not uncommon. 
They are, alas, more real than imaginary. 

There was only one person in Brighton who 
could solve the mystery regarding Miss Skinner’s 
abduction,” and that was Miss Polly Spoones, 
her cousin, but she, for reasons that seemed good 
to herself, kept very dark on this subject of her 
disappearance. 

Poor Father John, the parish priest of the Irish 
settlement, and . also of the town in which the 
mysterious disappearance happened, felt greatly 
annoyed that his name was mixed up with this 
affair. Of course he laughed at the story of her 


io8 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


abduction by himself or anybody else, in a jocose 
manner replied to his friends who, in fun, taunted 
him with his alleged exploit, by saying, “Never 
mind, we can survive all these ridiculous stories. 
They are not very complimentary to me, in mak- 
ing me the hero of this ^ abduction.’ Don’t you 
think if I was inclined to ‘ abduct’ anybody, I 
would not be fool enough to carry off such a fright 
as the female Skinner? Why, man alive, my pony 
used to get scared, every time I met her on the 
road, with her bundle of tracts. She was as ugly 
and wrinkled as the Witch of Endor. Confound 
’em, as they were lying at all, why did they not 
say I ‘ abducted’ some decent person?” 

“ I think. Father,” said some of the Church 
Committee, “you ought to write to those news- 
papers which print such scandalous and unfounded 
reports of this affair.” 

“No, sir, no; not one line. If they are so 
degraded as to print such absurdities, let them. 
They are not worthy of being set aright. I do not 
care a straw for the slander on myself, but I pity 
poor human nature when I see how easily it can 
be humbugged. Why, some of those people in 
Brighton, who were friendly to me before this 
unfortunate event, and would shake hands, and 
ask me, / How do you do. Father John ; won’t you 
come and have dinner?’ now they pass me by 
without as much as a nod. How can I help it? . 
This thing will be all cleared up before long. I 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


109 


would not wonder if those unprincipled preachers 
were at the bottom of the thing. Probably, or at 
least possibly ., — for we must not judge even our 
enemies rashly, — those people hid her off, in order 
to make political capital out of it. The presiding 
Methodist preacher here, I understand, is working 
hard, and has been for years, to get the nomination 
to run for a member of Congress, or some such, 
office, and, as his own party is divided, and some 
of them will vote against him if he gets the nomi- 
nation, this abduction case is only a ruse to excite 
the low Methodist masses, in order that they may 
all vote for him, the champion of the Gospel. 
These fellows are wise in their generation ; but 
truth will triumph in the end.’’ 

Time had passed, but no account came of Miss 
Skinner. Spiritualists were consulted, fortune- 
tellers approached, but the mystery still remained 
unsolved. The excitement which her disappearance 
had created, however, began gradually to calm. A 
terrible steamboat accident had occurred, a fearful 
colliery explosion happened, and a couple of mur- 
ders in “ upper ten,” if not in high life, came off ; 
and those affording abundant subject-matter for the 
popular preachers of the day — the Beechers, the Bel- 
lowses, the Cheevers and the Chapins — for several 
successive Sabbaths, the Western abduction case 
of Miss Skinner lost its novelty, became obsolete, 
and was soon entirely forgotten. 

The spirit which possessed the people during 


no 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


the period of excitement seemed to have gone 
out*' of them, and they began to look like rational 
beings. Now, when they ceased to be “possessed,’’ 
some of them began to feel ashamed of what they 
had said and done while under the influence of the 
“ evil one.” They saw how absurd were their sus- 
picions, how groundless and rash their accusations, 
and hence, when Father John went around, as was 
his custom, on his visits to his people in the vil- 
lage, they began to nod at him, to salute him anH 
ask how he was again. He, the good soul, returned 
their salutes cordially, .though he neither offered 
nor listened to any explanations or apologies, but 
he never lost faith, but hoped, prayed and trusted 
that Providence would vindicate him from the evil 
aspersions that were so unsparingly heaped upon 
him, as on his Divine Master, and that the hidden 
designs of the wicked would be ultimately, if not 
speedily, brought to light. Just at the time of the 
disappearance of our lost young lady the people of 
the village, and indeed of the country, were startled 
by the advertisement of a celebrated “ clairvoyant 
medium” who had arrived in town, and who 
promised to reveal all the future, as well as discover 
the secrets of the past and present. She announced 
herself as the seventh daughter of a father who 
was a seventh son. She revealed to one of our 
most illustrious Presidents his election long before 
he had dreamed of becoming a candidate for that 
exalted office, and she had foretold the breaking 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Ill 


out of the civil war, and the very day of its termina- 
tion. This was a very good chance for the people 
of Brighton to learn what had been the fate of the 
missing young lady. But it would take several 
weeks, if not months, before the people were calm 
enough to think of consulting the famous Russian 
medium. Madam Fetoffskoff, as she named herself. 
She came to settle in the United States in prefer- 
ence to any other country from the friendship 
which exists between both great countries, for the 
reason that a Russian ambassador once married an 
American lady, and the two governments are the 
very antipodes of one another, and, like the poles of 
an electric- battery, only harmonize by opposition. 
Hence, for several months, the celebrated medium 
had a great and lucrative run of patronage, and if 
not certain, it is more than probable that it was 
owing to the satisfactory responses she gave to all 
inquirers about the ‘Most one’’ that the public 
feeling so completely calmed down among the mass- 
es, and that, though Miss Skinner’s disappearance 
was still involved in mystery, not a little was spoken 
about her during the almost two years of her ab- 
sence, at the period of our history concerning which 
we now write. We shall have to chronicle more 
of her, most likely, before we conclude this nar- 
rative. 



CHAPTER X. 

AN EXTORTED CONFESSION WORTHLESS. 

Tjlll RS. Mulroony spent a troubled and sleep- 
night at home, while her dear son Pat- 
was enjoying himself at the sociable’" 
of Miss Polly Spoones. The cause of her 
uneasiness was twofold : she sympathized lovingly 
with her dear husband, who lay seriously ill from 
the effects of the severe injuries he received in 
getting his lower extremities frozen during the 
time he remained in the snowdrift on the night of 
his last visit to Mrs. Mastiff’s saloon. And, though 
the doctors who attended from Brighton daily 
made light of his injuries, and promised to have 
him all right in a week or two, she, poor woman, 
had her misgivings, and entertained very serious 
fears of his death from those apparently superficial 
injuries. She was a pious matron, who, under the 
• external appearance of a very ordinary woman, 
led a very mortified and holy life, and practised 
rigid austerities ; as, for instance, abstaining from 
flesh meat during all Lent and Advent, and fasting 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


II3 

on one meagre meal Wednesdays, Fridays and 
Saturdays through the year. She was, besides, a 
woman of a very superior mind, and this, together 
with her unassuming piety, made all her acquaint- 
ances, not excepting the priest. Father John, to 
regard her opinions, judgments and presentiments 
as something partaking of the nature of predic- 
tions. She shed tears very abundantly, much 
against her will, ever since the- accident to her 
beloved husband, and when the doctors, noticing 
her. grief, encouraged her to be of good cheer, that 
“ the old man would be all right in eight or ten 
days ; there was no need for alarm,” she shook her 
head in doubt, and merely answered, God grant 
it, — His holy will be ever adored.” 

Besides the care and trouble from this source, 
the pious matron was not a little, disturbed at the 
conduct of her son Patrick. He had, since he went 
to the acadeihy, begun to be changed in his man- 
ners and habits. During the past month or six 
weeks, he was frequently absent frorn home till 
after dark, a thing very unusual with him before he 
went to the academy, and now, on the night of the 
'' sociable,” he did not return home till after mid- 
night. She began to fear that something had hap- 
pened him, muttering that '‘misfortunes seldom 
come alone,” when, hearing the sound of sleigh- 
bells, she saw in the dim, fading light of the setting 
moon her son dismount and enter the garden gate, 
after a cordial adieu to his companion, who appeared 
8 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


1 14 

to his mother very much like a female, but “ sure,” 
she said, correcting herself, “ that could not be, for 
none but a crazy woman would be out at this 
unreasonable hour.” 

She opened the door, and meeting her son as 
he was about to rush upstairs to his bedroom, she 
. arrested Jbim, saying, “ Patsey dear, what kept you 
out to this hour of the night ? I thought some 
accident happened, agra; come into, the kitchen, 
where there is a good fire, till you tell me what 
made you stop out so late. Don’t you want some 
supper, or breakfast it must be called now, for it is 
near day ? ” 

“ No, mother, I am not hungry. As regards 
my staying out so late, the cause may be too long 
to tell you now. Suffice to say, that there was a 
prize question to be solved in school, for fifty dol- 
lars, and I won it. There is the money for you, 
mother,” he said, handing her the fifty-dollar bill. 
“ This is what I call a profitable way .of learning, 
by which we cannot only get education, but make 
money.” 

“ Ah, my son, you may call that money a profit, 
but I call it a loss, for by your staying out so late 
you caused me a loss of peace and rest ; your 
father and I lost your company; you lost your 
regular old habits of saying your prayers at my 
knee, and God and His Holy Mother grant you 
have not suffered the loss of your innocence, as 
you have of your good, pious habits, and we of our 
peace of mind, by your late irregular conduct.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


ns 

“ Well, mother, one cannot be a child always. 
If I want to be anything, I must do like others.” 

“ Yes, I allow, you must be like other people. 
But what people ? The holy saints and servants of 
God, like St. Patrick, St. Aloysius, or St. John, or the 
people of the wicked world, without faith, morals or 
hope? Now sit down and tell me, your loving 
mother,” she- said, taking his right hand into her 
own, and putting her left hand around his neck — 
tell me all now, my son ; what kept you out to this 
hour ? Surely, you were not in the academy till mid- 
night? What were you doing; where did you get 
your supper and this drink I smell from you ; and 
who is it that drove you up to the gate there in 
the cutter ? Out of this you shan’t go, my own poor 
boy,” she added, in tears, “ till you tell me all. 
Begin your confession now, to your poor broken- 
hearted mother, and I will forgive you everything, 
if you tell me all.’’ 

“ Why, mother,” he answered, a little embar- 
rassed, “you ask me so many questions that it 
will take till nine o’clock to-morrow to answer 
them all. Besides, I can’t speak a word when I 
see you cry so,” he added, bursting into tears him- 
self! “ hoo, hoo, hoo — oh, it kills me to see my 
mother all the time weeping; why are you not 
like any other mothers, who let their sons do as 
they wish ; but always warning, always predicting, 
always in tears ? oh, I can’t stand this, mother ! ’’ he 
sobbed, hiding his face in his handkerchief. 


1 1 6 PROFIT AND LOSS, 

“My son,” replied the good woman, “it is 
because I love you that I am all the time uneasy 
about you. I saw so many, perhaps not so good as 
you, but as competent in their own strength, fall 
or go astray, that I cannot be indifferent to your 
slightest actions. I know you are a good, obedient 
•child, and it is for this reason that I ask you to 
tell me what has kept you out so late; You know 
your father is not able to be around, and there is 
none to attend to everything but that boy David, 
our hired servant.” 

“ I know all this. But Doctor Blackman told 
me to-day that father would be- well in eight or 
ten days, and that there was no danger of his life-.” 

“ I know he says so, but doctors are not infalli- 
ble. Now tell me where you spent this blessed 
night.” 

“Well, mother, after I gained that prize and 
got that money, the principal invited me, with 
others, to a ‘ sociable,’ and at that I spent the 
greater part of the night.” 

“ What did you call it ? ‘ sociable,’ what ? ” 

“ Why” he answered, “ did you never get in- 
vited to a sociable party at a friend’s house ? ” 

“ Oh, of course,” she replied ; “ the principal 
must be very kind to you indeed, but you ought 
to have declined the invitation, — you had a good 
excuse. You could tell him your father was con- 
fined to his bed from an accident, and then, if he 
had any gentlemanly ‘ brought up,’ he would excuse 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


II7 

you. Now tell me, who, besides you and the prin- 
cipal, were there ? 

That would be hard for me to tell, who am 
comparatively a' stranger. The whole town, I 
believe, were there.” 

Were not all the preachers there, and had 
they not some pious singing and prayers?” 

“Yes, the ministers were all there, I believe, 
and they sung some hymns, and offered some pray- 
ers. But sure that did me no harm.” 

“ No, ay? Were there no other Catholics there 
but you ? ’’ 

“ I don’t know ; but there was a young man 
named Reardon, who made himself remarkable by 
his jokes and comic anecdotes.” 

“ What brought him there, I wonder ? I know 
his father well, a good Catholic, who I am surprised 
allows too much of his own ways to that wild 
young fellow.” 

“ Well, I suppose he came for fun, nothing 
more.” 

“Fun, ay? What fun could he have among 
thosfe holy hypocrites, who pretend to be scandal- 
ized at the most innocent amusements — such as 
music on Sundays, or a family country-dance at a 
wedding?” 

“Fun ! I guess there was fun — an ocean of it 
at that sociable last night. There were ' forfeits,’ 
‘hide and seek,’ and other games too numerous to 
mention.” 


1 1 8 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

“ You did not join those naughty, silly games, 
I hope?” 

“ No, not much ; indeed I was too much occu- 
pied in thinking of my prize-money, and how 
easily it was earned. You can buy a shawl, and 
dress and furs, for that money, mother. I intended 
it for you, and said it should be yours, if I won it, 
even before I won it.” 

“You are my darling and best-beloved son, 
Patrick ; I fear, if anything, that I have loved you 
too much. Now tell me who it is that was kind 
enough to drive you home in that nice sleigh with 
its silver bells, and I shall allow you to go to your 
room.” 

“ Mother, that was the principal of the* acad- 
emy who kindly volunteered to bring me home,” 
he answered in a hesitating and embarrassed 
manner. 

“That principal, the good gentleman, must be 
very kind to you, my son. Why do you smile ? 
Do you mock at your mother, Pat ? for every time 
that I speak of the gentlemanly principal of your 
academy, you laugh. Why is it ? ” 

“Why, mother, I can’t help it. You speak so 
often of our gentlemanly principal, when I thought 
you knew that our principal was a lady. Miss 
Spoones.” 

“ Oh, that’s it. I should think her husband 
would be fitter for the office of president of a col- 
lege than a woman. But perhaps she, the good 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


II9 

woman, has got a divorce from her man and runs 
the institution alone, eh ? ” 

. “ No, mother, she is a young lady, very accom- 
plished and talented. They elected her principal 
of the academy from the fact that she is a tip-top 
scholar, and that her late father, a captain in the 
navy, was head of the academy before he died. I 
tell you they are wealthy, this Spoones family. If 
you were to see the silver dishes and -golden spoons, 
and watches, and elegant pictures that adorn that 
cottage of Miss Spoones you would be really sur- 
prised, as I have been. I never saw such a sight 
before in all- my life.” . 

“ And sure, my son, it was not that lady, the 
accomplished Miss Spoones, who drove you home 
in the sleigh to-night. It could not be at all pos- 
sible that such a rich, accomplished and refined lady 
could take that trouble for you, a comparative 
stranger, when she could get one of her servants to 
drive you home. Who, then, was it who drove 
you up to the gate this night ? it looked like a 
female who returned you such a warm good-night 
and embrace after you had fixed the buffalo-robes 
so nicely around the person ! Tell me who that 
was, and this will be my last question to-night, my 
son. 

• The young man hesitated, knowing well the 
effect that telling the truth would have on his 
mother, and said: “You saw the sleigh and the 
person in it, did you not, mother ; the moon was 


120 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“Yes, my dear, I saw, and judged it was a . 
female that was in the sleigh, though I could not 
swear to it, my eyes are so dim of late, from weep- 
ing.” 

“Well, mother, you saw aright, for that — that 
— person — lady was Miss Spoones herself, who is 
an experienced driver, and has a fine span of black 
colts, four year old, and an elegant cutter, and rich 
robes, too.” 

“ Oh, Pat ! Pat ! ” she exclaimed. “ Oh, has it 
come to this, that my poor innocent boy has 
become so corrupted, so lost to self-respect, so 
dead to all the lessons of virtue he received in the 
nineteen years of his life, as to be out in the dead 
of night, to spend so many hours of darkness in 
the company of a strange, if not a loose, female ? 

“ Mother, be calm. She is a most respectable 
young lady.” 

“ Silence, my son ! and go to bed. Don’t talk 
any more ! ^ Respectable young lady,’ eh ? Why, 

no lady, young or old, tliat ever had any self-respect 
or fear of God or man, would be out of her room 
at such an hour. Oh, what are we coming to ? 
Oh, it would break your father’s heart, he would 
never survive the disgrace, if he knew of your con- 
duct this night, young man.” 

“Oh, mother dear, for God’s sake, do not tell 
father. I will be good. I meant no harm. I will 
never be out late again. Oh dear ! oh dear ! It 
will kill me to see you carry on so, mother. I go 


PROFIT AATD LOSS. 


I2I 


on my knees and promise you. Mother, do not 
turn off from me, but hear me. I promise I shall 
never be out late again. Do forgive me, this time. 
I shall obey you in all things if you just be calm, 
and forgive me this one fault.” 

Oh, I forgive you, my child, and may God for- 
give you. Kneel down there, under that picture 
of the Immaculate Mother of God, and say three 
^ Hail Marys,’ for her aid to keep and preserve you 
from the contagion of sin and the snares of Satan. 
‘ Holy Mary, conceived without sin, pray for him. 
Amen.’ Good-night, my child, and God bless, pro- 
tect, and save you.” 

The young man ascended to his room with a 
slow, heavy step, opened the door, and casting him- 
self prostrate on the floor, which he wet with his 
tears, he went through his prayers, adding to his 
usual exercises, which he repeated from memory, 
the fourth Penitential Psalm, the ‘ Miserere,’ in pen- 
ance for the sins of the past day. Then rising, and 
divesting himself of his clothes, and sprinkling him- 
self with holy water,” he flufig himself into bed, 
where for hours he remained awake, ruminating on 
the exciting incidents that had lately occurred. At 
length, about the hour of five in the morning, his 
disturbed mind yielded to the languor of his weary 
members, and sleep succeeded to consciousness. 

But even in the oblivion of a heavy sleep his 
imagination was not at rest, and the repose of a 
peaceful slumber was wanting. He dreamed that 


122 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


he was mounted on a high platform surrounded by 
an applauding crowd who encouraged him to go 
forward, while a few obscure but grave peasant-like 
females warned him of the danger of an advance. 
He hesitated which to follow — the plaudits of the 
multitude, or the warnings of the grave matrons, 
who were despised and repulsed by the noisy trowd ; 
when a dashing female advanced, mounted on a 
splendid vehicle, and invited him so pressingly to 
join her that he could not resist, but with one 
spring leaped forward and took his seat by her 
side. The crowd redoubled their applause, while 
the warnings of the plain women became more 
indistinct, till, rushing on at lightning speed, all 
were left behind and out of sight. Presently a 
terrible precipice appeared in front, but the fiery 
steeds rushed' forward to destruction ; in vain he 
called on his female guicie to pull the reins, to try 
to check them in their mad career, till at last, grow- 
ing desperate, he stood up, leaped from the car, and 
was landed at the very brink of the precipice, 
broken and bruised, while the fiery chargers and 
female conductor disappeared forever in the seeth- 
ing gulf beneath 1 He awoke, and found himself 
on the floor, somewhat seriously damaged in his 
face from having fallen out of bed against the stove 
in his room.. Having bathed his face with cold 
water, applied by means of a sponge, the young 
man returned again to bed, where, musing on the 
events of the past day, his refreshed fancy recalled 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


123 


the pleasures he experienced at the sociable, the 
honor conferred by his obtaining the prize-money, 
and the possible higher degrees that awaited him 
on some future competition for literary honors. 

It is all gammon,” he said to himself, “ to be 
alarmed as my mother is, about any dangers, to 
any one of common sense, from mixing up with 
people of different views of religion or frequenting 
female society. That may do very well in Ireland, 
where people were oppressed by English laws and 
• a premium was offered for apostasy ; but here we 
make the laws ourselves, and the people do not 
seem to care for any religion, though they talk a 
good deal about churches. Not even Miss Spoones) 
who is,, say who may anything to the contrary, an 
elegant lady. She never spoke a word to me 
against any religion. The only religion she seems 
to like is to love, ha ! ha ! ha ! My mother is 
foolish, and I was a fool to tell her all I did last 
night. I must be wiser the next time. What an 
ass I was, and to cry like a little girl. Shame ! 
shame ! I sincerely hope I will i^ver be so foolish 
again. What is it to a man if he lacks society, 
honor, fame and love, as Elder Bull said the other 
night at the ‘sociable?’ He spoke the truth too, 
every word, although he is a roaring Methodist 
preacher and all that. We all feel these truths 
within us, and even in our sleep our very dreams 
confirm these impressions. I promised mother, to be 
sure, last night not to remain out late at night ; 


124 


PROFIT AND Lass. 


but I did not promise her to give up the society I 
have already entered at Brighton. No, not a bit 
of it ; tears, prayers, entreaties and remonstrances 
to the contrary, notwithstanding.” And with these 
resolutions he got up and made his toilet, forgot 
his morning prayers, and went down to breakfast. 
A good resolution formed in the morning may keep 
a man from falling for a day, but a bad resolution, 
in its evil results, may last for a life, perhaps for all 
eternity ! 




CHAPTER XI. 

ORACULAR LETTER FROM “ THE SPIRITS’^ TO A METHODIST 
PREACHER DELPHIC AMBIGUITY. 

^|| E alluded, in a preceding chapter, to the 
? Tl I which enclosed the response of the 

spiritual medium to the anxious inquiries 
of Elder Redtop about his inamorata. Miss 
Spoones. He was interrupted in his hurry to learn 
the contents of this important epistle, the reader 
• will remember, by the unexpected and unwelcome 
visit of the presiding elder. Bull, just as the latter 
was starting on his electioneering campaign, and 
he was not sure but the sharp eye of the old fellow, 
as h’e called him, noticing him hiding the spiritist’s 
epistle, did not also guess at, if he did not read, its 
contents. Hence, before taking the important 
document from its hiding-place under the cushion 
of his office-chair, he took every prudent precau- 
tion against eavesdroppers and spies. He not only 
locked his door and turned the patent catch or 
spring to make it secure, but he stuck a plug of 


126 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


paper in the key-hole, and hung, up his light sum- 
mer coat over the window that looked towards the 
street. Then, with bated breath and beating 
heart, he took the letter, drew the small piece of 
paper enclosed from the envelope, and read the 
following words, which formed the entire contents 
of the document : 

“ Tour intended shall be yours for life, 

Though she.be another’s wife.” 

“ What on earth does this mean ? he said in 
soliloquy. “ She shall be mine for life, though 
another’s wife?. How can she be mine if she is 
another’s ? This is a puzzle, really. There must 
be some mistake here,’’ he said, turning the other 
side of the small single sheet of note-paper. He 
took hold of the envelope again, looked into it, 
and having torn it, turned it inside out. Then he 
lifted up the cushion from his office-chair, looked 
under the chair, in fact looked all over, to see if 
some scrap of paper had not dropped out of the 
cover, to explain,V:hrow light on, or solve the mys- 
tery. “But, no, this piece oi consarned'^ note- 
paper,” he said, “ was all this scurvy little envelope 
contained.” He read the words again and again, 
but their Delphic ambiguity remained all the same, 
reminding one of the old oracle of Delphos, Ibis 
redibis non in bello peribisP 

He tried to transpose the words of the note, so 
as to make them read differently, not that the poor 
man had any knowledge of the Latin line here quo- 


PROFIT AMD LOSS, 


127 

ted, which was all Greek” to Redtop, but he had 
often heard that prophecies and predictions were 
uttered in mysterious and puzzjing sentences. 

He flung the document towards the stove, ut- 
tered a not very pious prayer against all the medi- 
ums and fortune-tellers in the world, and sank into 
his oflice-chair, to think what he should do next. 
Would he go back to the medium and demand the 
fee he paid her, or some plainer intimation of what 
was to be his destiny regarding his intended part- 
ner for life? “ For,” he said, in an emphatic voice as 
if speaking to others, “ a wife is the best gift of the 
Lord to man, and, if I am defeated, if I am to draw 
a blank or inferior prize in this great gift enter- 
prise, I am a lost man. What is all this world to a 
man without a good wife ? ” Then he thought it 
would not do to go back to the premises of the 
medium again. What if he were observed going 
or coming from those accursed haunts of the spir- 
its of darkness ? Then if he visited the medium 
again, ten to one she would demand another fee, 
and, perhaps, tell his fortune in language as puz- 
zling as the one already delivered to him. No, he 
would not go back to the medium ; he knew where 
there was a colored man in St. Paul, who never 
failed in telling the fortunes of those who sought 
his advice, and that, plainly, viva voce,, without 
writing, mystery or humbug. To him he would go 
when he had time, but, at present, he made up his 
mind to pay the medium back for her humbug pre- 


128 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


diction and riddle on next Sabbath, when “ supply- 
ing” for Elder Bull. He would give it to them, 
those Spiritualists in general, and the branch of 
them in Brighton in particular, on next Sabbath, if 
the Lord spared him, now that he had a personal 
pique against them, in addition to the general rec- 
ommendations to pitch into them, which the pre- 
siding elder communicated to him, Redtop, before 
going on his electioneering tour, to run as candi- 
date for Senator. Then, when Elder Bull spoke to 
him, he did not feel like preaching against the 
Spiritualists, for he had had no dealings with them, 
and all his studied sermons were delivered against 
the Catholics. But, now, he would have a stimu- 
lant to goad him against the former, and he could 
easily make use of his sermons against the Catho- 
lics, by .changing a few sentences and putting Spiri- 
tualists in place of Catholics^ in his methodistical 
harangues. 

“ In the meantime,” he continued in mono- 
logue, and taking up the rejected document again, 
“ I .will run over and visit my dearest Polly, and 
lay this specimen of medium fortune-telling before 
her, to see what she will say to it, or recommend 
me to do.” So saying he took the piece of paper, 
gathered up the fragments of the torn . envelope, 
and placing them in his slim portmonnaie, thrust 
the latter into his breast coat-pocket. Then going 
before his glass, he brushed his hair, arranged his 
seedy necktie, turned up his heavy brass-plated 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


129 


finger-ring, so that its broad shield would be 
noticeable on the back of his finger, the “ digitus 
annularis,” and having locked the door of his 
apartment, he started at his usual rapid gait for 
the cottage of Miss Spoones. He knew he would 
find her at home, for the hour was late, and there 
was no sociable that he heard of in the town that 
evening. 

Hence, when he rushed into the hall, instead of 
asking, as was his wont, “ Is Miss Spoones in?” he 
said to the girl who admitted him, “ Go tell Miss 
Polly that I am here, and want to see her on 
urgent business.” 

“What’s the matter? you look excited,” inter- 
rogated Miss Spoones, as she entered. “ I thought 
you would be studying your sermon for Sabbath 
this time.’’ 

“You did, eh? It appears you have no 
trouble,- while I am crossed and persecuted by all 
the world, and all through your fault, Polly, my 
dearest, oh dear me, oh ! oh ! ” 

“Through my fault ? ” she answered indignantly. 
“ Why, Redtop, I told you the other day you were 
half crazed. In fun I spoke then, but it appears I 
am not wrong. Why do you weep so? None 
but a weak-minded, silly thing would be so easily 
made to shed tears.’^ 

“ I know it. I think I am crazy, ’pon my soul 
I do, or if not, I will be shortly. But have I not 
reason ? Here, take that document and read it. 

9 


130 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Perhaps it may not puzzle 5^ou, as it has me. For 
the past three hours I tried to find its meaning,” 
he said, handing her the epistle containing the 
foreknowledge of his fortune. 

She took it, looked at the address on the torn 
envelope, which read thus : “ Communication from 
the Spirits to Elder Redtop,” and smiled, to the 
disgust of his weeping reverence. Then opening 
the little folded scrap of paper, the words already 
given met her gaze, while suddenly her eyes 
flashed- with indignation. Don’t you pay no 
attention to this, Redtop. Some person has been 
humbugging you, that’s all. No true medium 
ever gave out such a riddle as this. Are you sure 
it Was the medium herself, and not Mrs. Broadher, 
that made up this ridiculous oracle ? ” 

“ It was the medium herself, the veiled woman, 
that wrote the note, enclosed it in this envelope, 
superscribed it, and handed it out to me through 
the little window, from her own inner room to the 
sitting-room, where she and I had the consulta- 
tion, and where I paid her the fee of one dollar 
before she would speak a word.” 

“Well, well, she must be a humbug or worse, 
that medium. Leave this letter with me, and I 
will see about it, Redtop.” 

“ Well, I suppose she is a humbug, sure enough, 
but then you recommended me to consult her, 
telling me I might rely upon her knowledge. I do 
not like, Polly dear, to leave you this letter, though 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


I3I 

I could not refuse you anything, dearest. But I 
intend to take that letter to the famous colored 
fortune-teller in St. Paul, who lives in a lone shanty 
on the borders of ‘ Frogtown.’ He goes by the 
name of Bill Shim. And mind, he won’t deceive 
me by no writings or riddles. I went to consult 
him once when paying my addresses to Lizzie 
Sweet, who died of consumption, and he told me 
exact that she wasn’t a-going to be my wife, but 
would die unmarried, and so she did.” 

“ But, you leave this note in my possession till 
next Monday, and I shall probably have the true 
interpretation of it for you. Perhaps the medium 
left out some little word or particle, that would 
alter the meaning of the whole ; then it would read 
thus: 

Your intended shall be yours for life. 

And not be another’s wife.’ ” 

“ Oh, that would be happiness to me, if it read 
that way, my dearest Polly. If you say it ought 
to be so, I will believe you, and then I will, in my 
sermon next Sabbath, while Elder Bull is election- 
eering to try to get nomination for senator — I will 
give that medium who deceived me, and those 
Spiritualists, h — 11— I mean, of course, ‘ Hail Co- 
lumbia.’ I will, dearest.” 

‘‘ Oh, do not, Redtop. Do not abuse the me- 
dium or the Spiritualists. They are getting to be 
very influential in these parts. It would not be 
wise to offend such a large body, and it would not 


132 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


do at all to ‘pitch into the medium’ in Mrs. 
Broadher’s house, for there are people from, her 
house always in the Methodist church, to take 
notes and learn what the preachers say. Perhaps 
that very medium you consulted may be listening 
to you now ; and indeed — for she is a very strong- 
minded woman — she may contradict you in church. 
She may speak up to you and tell the entire con- 
gregation that you were consulting her the other 
day. That, you know, would not answer, — would 
ruin your prospects as a minister of the gospel, 
and lead to many evils.” 

“Well, Polly dearest, I thought as you do 
myself, at first ; but Elder Bull, before going on 
his electioneering tour, told me I must pitch into 
the Spiritualists on account that they were taking 
away many of our best people — such as Messrs. 
McBeth, Jones, Carver and others. So I have no 
choice, if I don’t want to displease the presiding 
elder.” 

“ Then if such are your instructions you must 
follow them ; but on no account are you to reflect 
on the medium. I know her, and I know she can’t 
be touched with impunity. Be very cautious.” 

“ I will take your advice, dearest. My own 
inclination and resolve was to preach against the 
Catholics, for all my sermons have been composed 
with that view; but the elder insisted that, till 
he. comes back, my sermons must be against the 
Spiritualists.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


133 


^^All right brother and dear friend, I shall 
return you this letter next week, when I hope I 
will be able to explain all to your satisfaction.” 

The couple parted for the present — the ^ lady’ 
to her work of embroidering a pair of elegant 
pocket-handkerchiefs, which were not intended for 
her beau Redtop, and th^ laft^ to his study to pre- 
pare his phillippics against the Spint-rapp>ers. 

The Sabbath, as they call it, arrived and found 
elder Redtop ready, after a week of nervous anxi- 
ety, for there was a large congregation attracted 
by the rumor that the discourse was to be against 
the Spiritualists, and also because many were desir- 
ous of hearing the “ Elder” preach by himself, in 
such a large church. Heretofore the bashful young 
preacher had frequently held forth, but always in 
school-houses, court-houses, and academy-halls, or 
dining-rooms at taverns. Never until this auspi- 
cious day did he have a chance to show off in a 
respectable large meeting-house. Hence he was 
very nervous. He felt as if a fire was in his bow- 
els, which burned him inwardly, and the fumes of 
which, mounting up with his ambition, filled his 
brain and confused his ideas. 

He had altered his best sermon against the 
Catholics, so as to apply it to the Spiritists, but in 
declaiming the discourse before the looking-glass 
in his room, in his drawling and unnatural accents, 
he every now and then fell into the mistake of 
putting in “ Romanists’’ in place of “ Spiritualists.” 


134 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


He found habit a second nature, and as Ke had 
been so long in the habit of abusing and slander- 
ing Catholics, he found it difficult to break him- 
self into the practice of abusing any other people. 
This day was to be the crowning day of his life.. 
If he succeeded on this day in pleasing the large 
congregation widc ^d yg* was to address, it was more 
than probable— nay, it was certain — he would be 
called to the pastoral charge of the church in case 
Rev. Elder Bull got elected to the Senate, and 
there was little doubt of that, from the fact that 
he had preached often over all parts of the electo- 
ral district, which he was gone now “ to stump” as 
a politician. Some people of course were curious 
enough to make the impertinent remark that if 
Elder Bull had a call from the Lord to preach the 
gospel, he was not justified in renouncing that call 
and accepting the call of a political “ caucus,” and 
the same people said, if he had not a call as a min- 
ister, then he was an impostor to pretend that he 
had a divine call. In either case they made out 
Elder Bull a pretender. But no matter what he 
was, “ that’s none of my business,” thought Red- 
top. “ If I can get this congregation- that’s all 
I want. Then I am sure of my darling girl Polly, 
and then I may laugh at the puzzling riddles of 
mediums. All I see’ depends on my preaching to- 
day. So here goes,” he said, mounting the pulpit. 

He took his text from the first book of Samuel 
or Kings, chap. 28, where it mentioned that Saul 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


135 


hath rooted out the magicians and soothsayers 
from the land.” 

In the commencment of his harangue he was 
comparatively calm, though very nervous, as ap- 
peared from the frequent mistakes he made, often 
ludicrously mentioning Catholics in place of Spirit- 
ualists, and idolatry in the place of demonology 
and withcraft. But when, after giving a general 
idea of Spiritualists, he spoke of the presence of 
that devilish sect in this Christian village, his rage 
became uncontrolled, he frothed at the mouth, 
invoked the vengeance of heaven or the wrath of 
hell on them and their followers, friends and pa- 
tronizers, denounced them as impious, deceitful, 
immoral, and worthy the execration of mankind. 
He was interrupted in the midst of his furious 
declamation, however, by the voice of a woman, 
crying out, “ You are the deceiver, the liar and the 
impostor. Elder Redtop, because, on last Tuesday, 
you went to consult the medium at Mrs. Broad- 
her’s ! You paid your dollar fee, and you received 
the information you asked from the spirits ! And 
now you have the hypocrisy to denounce, curse, 
.and condemn those who only imitate yourself, you 
vile, ungrateful wretch, in going where they can 
learn the truth instead of the disgusting humbug 
and hypocrisy which you and' such scoundrels as 
you retail to your deluded hearers in places like 
this!’’ 

Cries of Put her out, put her out,” greeted the 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


136 

veiled medium’s speech. But she left of her own 
accord, brandishing a silver-mounted revolver, and 
after she left, many of the people left too, disgusted 
at the exhibition that Redtop made of himself, and 
some with a view to have the medium arrested. 
The people were confused, and did not know what 
to think. Some threw the whole blame on the 
preacher, some on the Spiritualists and the medium. 
But there was one thing which all were agreed on, 
and that was this, namely, that Elder Redtop was 
not a fit person, under any circumstances, to be the 
pastor of this the best congregation in the town of 
Brighton, even if he were recommended by Elder 
Bull himself, after he got elected to the post of 
Senator. His bread was baked anyhow, so far as 
promotion to the charge of the presiding elder’s 
congregation was concerned. So thought all wise 
people, and especially Miss Polly S'poones, the 
wisest of all the Methodists in the town . of 
Brighton. 




CHAPTER XII. 

INTERESTING COMMENTS ON PASSING EVENTS BY HONEST 
LAYMEN. 

meeting yesterday, Mr. Broad- 
?1I I McBeth to the propri- 

etor of the first-class hotel in the town of 
Brighton. 

No, but my wife and daughter were ; and 
sorry I ani that they went to such a place to wit- 
ness the scene that transpired.’’ 

‘‘What was that?*” inquired Mr. Smylie, a 
travelling man for a wholesale house in St. Paul. 
“ There was some fun ; I heard only a sketch of 
it. Your preacher got into a fracas with a medium 
of spirits, did he not ?” 

“So T could hear. But that Redtop ain’t 
nobody, anyhow. He has not sense, enough to 
keep him from eating dirt, that fellow. Elder 
Bull is greatly to blame for allowing such a crazy 
fellow to occupy his pulpit in his absence. It 
appears he intended to preach on Spiritualism, 


138 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

but instead of showing how unscriptural or unor- 
thodox the system was, he got into a rage, and 
began to denounce all belonging to that profes- 
sion, and among others all in this town who fol- 
lowed that way of thinking; whereupon the 
medium, who stops down at Mrs. Broadher’s, a very 
respectable woman in her way, rose up in meeting 
and contradicted and denounced the preacher in 
turn. Oh, it was a rich scene, they say.” 

“ Yes,” added McBeth, “ and besides this rebuke 
to him in public, she declared that the self-same 
man, Redtop, a few days before, called at her 
room, at Mrs. Broadher’s, to get his fortune told.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! ha ! ha ! ha ! ” exclaimed Mr. Smith. 
“ That is going a little too far. I allow that Red- 
top has not much common-sense, but sure he would 
not be so mad as to put himself in the medium’s 
power, in the manner in which' you state ; or if he 
did go to consult her, he surely should not de- 
nounce her, and all who went to consult her, as he 
did.” 

But I tell you. Smith — I tell you all, gentle- 
men — that I can prove to you that every word the 
medium said in meeting is true. You must know 
that, before she gives audience to anybody who 
wishes to consult her, the name of the person 
applying for consultation must be sent in to her on 
a card or piece of paper, either written or printed. 
Now, I have seen the medium this very foreaoon, 
and she gave me that card ; there it is, gentlemen. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


139 


look at it, with his name written by his own hand? 
Now, is he not a scoundrel, every inch of him, 
eh?” 

‘‘ By-the-by, you are a spiritualist, McBeth, 
are you not ? ” asked Mr. Smith, 

“ No, sir, I am not. In fact I am nothing 
Those hypocrites have made me lose whatever 
religion I had when I came here from the East. 
Their double-dealing, their perpetual abuse of the 
Catholics, the only sincere religious people there 
is ; their frequent misconduct, I mean of the 
clergy, such as Horace Cook, J. W. Cook, Huston 
of Baltimore, not to speak of the peccadilloes of 
others nearer home — all these things have dis- 
gusted me with the whole tribe of gospellers, so 
that I never go to hear any of them except I want 
fun.” 

The fact is, McBeth,” said Smith, all these 
men have to be watched. I confess my own faith 
has been very much staggered of late by what I 
have seen and heard. But we must not be discour- 
aged on that account.” 

“ It is really discouraging to observe the con- 
duct, not to speak of the contradictions, of most of 
our Evangelical ministers,” said Mr. Broadhead. 

Look at the- very best, I may say, of them. Elder 
Bull. He goes off last week, leaving this fool Red- 
top in his place ; and what does he go off for ? Why 
to try to get nominated for the office of senator, 
hoping to make that office — like Harlan, of Iowa, or 


140 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Creamer, the brother-in-law of the President — a 
stepping-stone to higher promotion, not in the 
Church, mind, which he vowed to serve, but in the 
State, where, like the rest of the office holders, he 
may fill his pockets by the plunder of the people’s 
money. Is this what we ought to expect from a 
* man of God,’ as he shamelessly calls himself.” 

I tell you what, gentlemen7’ said Mr. Smylie, 
there is very little of what belongs to God about 
those men. As for me, I have been disgusted with 
them years ago, and hence, though born and 
brought up a Methodist, I have not gone to their 
churches for years. If I want to hear a good prac- 
tical sermon, recommending temperance, chastity, 
or any other Christian virtue, or denunciatory of 
vice in all its forms, I go the Cathedral of our city 
to hear the bishop or one of his clergy, though I 
am not a Catholic. In fact, I may say, to use an 
Irish bull, ‘ I am neither fish, flesh nor good red 
herring,’ in religion.” . • 

“ Like me exactly,” answered Mr. McBeth. “ I 
am nothing. But yet, these lying roarers won’t let 
me alone and give me peace. And now, as they 
cannot but see that I am disgusted with their rant, 
and scandalized at their enormous religious slan- 
ders. because I went once or twice to a meeting of 
so-called Spiritualists., they denounce me as one 
of them.” 

“I thought this great new medium here at 
Broadher s was a Russian, who got the ‘ famous 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


I4I 

pebble from the Emperor of China,’ ” said Broad- 
head. “ How is it, McBeth, for you must know 
that she spoke such good English yesterday in 
reply to Redtop’s denouncements in meeting?” 

I suppose the spirits know all languages,” 
replied McBeth, with a smile in his roguish eye. 
“ Would it not be,” he continued, “ as easy for the 
spirits to teach all tongues as to lead her into the 
knowledge of all future events, as for instance, 
whether Redtop’s intended lady love is to marry 
him or not, for that was what took him, in disguise, 
to consult her.” 

Was that really so?” asked many together.* 
‘‘Yes, gentlemen, that is really so. He got 
jealous of some rival of his in the affections of his 
intended, and very good right he has to be jealous, 
as far as I can learn, and that is what took him to 
consult the ‘ Russian Star-reader with the pebble 
from the Emperor of China.’ The truth is gentle- 
men,’’ he added seriously, “ this medium business 
consists in great part of humbuggery too, as well as 
Methodism and its camp-meeting and the noisy 
roaring of the preachers declaring they ‘ see the 
Lord ; ’ they ‘ hear the angelic songs above ; ’ and 
they ‘ can conduct the sinner straight to Paradise.’ 
There is just as much imposition in Spiritism, and 
its followers are as much deluded by its pretended 
light communicated though ‘ rappings,’ ‘ table turn- 
ings,’ and ‘ mediums,’ as those labor under who be- 
lieve in the pretensions of Methodism and Mor- 
5 


142 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


monism and all the other ‘ isms’ which exist, and 
they are almost countless. The motives and objects 
which delude and lead astray are different, but the 
delusion and discomfiture of the victims of all these 
errors of the human mind are the same substan- 
tially.” 

By-the-by, did you say that Redtop was jeal- 
ous of some rival ? ” McBeth asked Mr. Smith, “ Is 
it possible that the slippery school-marm is going 
to give him the mitten, eh ? ” 

“ Yes, Smith, she has other game .in her eye' 
besides that half-daft preacher, but, like a prudent 
housekeeper, she does not like to throw out the 
dirty water till she has the clean to replace it. She 
will hold the dominie till she can be sure of the 
new-comer; for she is no fool, I can tell you, that 
Spoones damsel.” 

“ Who on earth can she be after now, Mac ?” 
interrupted Broadhead. I have known that girl 
to wind- young men — aye, a dozen of them — around 
her as she would a ribbon around her waist, and 
then get rid of them all with as little ceremony as 
if they were so many flies that perched on her 
skirts. So she has got a new string to her bow 
now?” 

“Yes, she has set her cap for one of the students, 
a young smart Irish lad : he that lately carried off 
the prize on the problem in algebra.” 

‘‘ You are right, his name is Ronay, I believe.” 

“ She calls him Ronay, but his true name is 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


143 


Mulroony, I believe. My boys tell me she is all 
attention to him in school ; divides her lunch with 
him, gives him apples and candy, whispers and 
chats with him apart from the rest, keeps him after 
hours in the hall to teach him the true accent, ha ! 
ha ! ha ! Then at the sociables and at parties they 
are always together, and she drives him home at 
night. This is why Redtop is almost beside him- 
self with jealousy. Good reason he has too, for he 
is no more than a monkey beside this young Irish- 
man.” 

“ Why, you astonish me, Mac. How in the 
world do you get posted on all these interesting 
social affairs ? ” asked Mr. Smith. 

“ Don’t you know, Smith,” replied Broadhead, 
‘Hhat Mac is a spiritualist. Why there’s nothing a 
secret to him. You and me and others, who do 
not belong to this ‘ progressive’ philosophical sect 
of spirit-rappers, are behind the age. We don’t 
know nothing, man alive. Ha! ha! ha! Mac not 
only knows all the .courtships, scandals, and divor- 
ces in the county, but most likely, from his inti- 
macy with the spirits and woman’s rights, he 
knows all that passes in the hearts, minds, and 
dreams of all the interesting young ladies in the 
county. Ha! ha! ha! haw!” 

“ No 1 don’t,” answered McBeth ; “ but I' keep 
my ears and eyes open, and do not allow myself 
to be hoodwinked and humbugged at camp-meet- 
ings, ‘ distracted’ meetings, and other roaring exer- 


144 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 

cises, which I am sorry to see you, Broadhead, 
attending, when I know that you and I entertain 
the same sentiments regarding these disgusting 
exhibitions.’’ 

Upon my word, McBeth, I like your candor,’’ 
remarked Smylie. ‘‘ But you ought to have been 
a preacher. You seem to understand these things 
well. I should think you wojald start an anti- 
sectarian church; and if you did, I am sure you 
would have a large congregation to attend to your 
preaching. I would join your congregation, sure.” 

^‘No, sir, I have no such ambition; besides, I 
believe that none but God can found a church. 
Our Lord founded a church, and whatever church 
that is, you may depend on it, that alone is anti- 
sectarian. For sectarianism is the upas -tree which 
has ruined and blighted all the fair fruit of the 
garden which the great second Adam planted and 
watered by his blood. They say the olden Para- 
dise is still in existence, for the Bible does not 
record its destruction, and that is, at least, a nega- 
tive proof of its existence. So also, the second, 
but far fairer Paradise which Christ planted is in 
*the world, still exists, but hidden from many, very 
many.” 

“ By George ! ” said Broadhead, Mac, you speak 
just as the Roman Catholics do. You must be a 
papist in your religious belief, though not in prac- 
tice.” 

I am not, I assure you, a Catholic, and besides 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


145 


have had little or no relation with Catholics in a 
religious point of view. I have a sincere respect, 
however, for the religious practices of the Catho- 
lics. I find very few of them who deny or sacrifice 
their faith for any temporary advantage, as most 
of all other people do without scruple. Is it not 
strange that though our holy Methodist preach- 
ers are always dii^ning into our ears that the 
church of Rome is aiming at 'political power, yet 
we never see or hear of a Catholic priest giving 
up his congregation or religious duties, however 
severe, and running for office, like Elder Bull, and 
people of his calibre. , Now, in several parts of the 
States — in New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, not 
to speak of California, Louisiana, etc. — Catholic 
priests could, if they wished, get .elected to Con- 
gress and State Legislature. Yet they prefer the 
work of their Divine Master. But who can count 
the number of Methodist and other preachers of 
Protestantism who run into office with greater 
haste than they do in walking in the way of eter- 
nal life. They are very slow in going up the 
narrow way, and yet they are always telling their 
dupes that they, themselves, are the true follow- 
ers of Christ, and that the Catholics are aiming at 
political power. Can there be a more striking 
proof of the blindness of their hearers?” 

“ Oh, Mac,” answered Broadhead, -see the 
reason that you are pointed out as a dangerous 
man. If men were to believe as you do, and rea- 
10 


146 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


son in your manner, our camp-meetings and 
protracted meetings, by George, would soon be 
deserted, and all our preachers would have to run 
for office, like Elder Bull, or else they would have 
to become honest tillers of the soil, for when the 
hat would go around to help the holy cause there 
would not be many dimes found in its bottom, I 
guess. I advise you, Mac, to be on your guard for 
the future, for if the ministers hear that these are 
your sentirhents, instead of putting you down as a 
spiritualist, as they have done, I am glad to learn 
erroneously, they will denounce you as a Jesuit in 
disguise, and then not all the water in the St. Croix 
will be able to wash you clean from the odious 
charge. Beware, McBeth, beware, I advise you. 
In the meantime, take and smoke that cigar 

“ Thank you for the cigar, if not for your ad- 
vice,” answered McBeth. 




CHAPTER XIIT. 

A RATHER PREMATURE DENOUEMENT OF A WELL-PLANNED 
SCHEME. 

FEW days after the serio-comic exhibition 
of Elder Redtop and the famous Russian- 
medium in Elder Bull’s meeting-house, she 
was visited at her chambers at Mrs. Broad- 
her’s by a young lady and gentleman. The young 
lady, who was no other than Miss Spoones, ap- 
peared to be familiar with the haunts of the medium, 
for she ascended to her rooms without rapping or 
other intimation of her approach, and after having 
arrived at the sitting-room, where she left her male 
companion, she intruded, if intrusion it was, into the 
secret shrine of the gifted woman. Her companion 
did not apparently relish this his first adventure to 
the enchanted precincts of the spirits, and fearing 
every second that he would hear or see some frightful 
manifestations of the dreaded agents of a mysteri- 
ous power, he kept himself very quiet and breathed 
in a suppressed and troubled manner. He wished 



148 


PROFIT ANITLOSS. 


he had never entered this condemned-looking man- 
sion, and he was strangely tempted to quit the 
detested place, and would have done so if he had 
not feared that his gallantry and politeness would 
be thereby compromised by thus abruptly desert- 
ing the lady he came with ; so that there was a 
struggle in his mind between his candor and 
abhorrence of all sorts of humbuggery, and his 
good-breeding and politeness to the ladies. And 
we are sorry to have to record that the * latter 
feelings of weakness toward the sex prevailed 
with young Mulroony, for it was he ; and though 
thoroughly disgusted, and in a profuse perspiration 
from a sense of his humiliating, position, yet he 
remained a silent but troubled expectant of the 
return of his companion from the inner haunts of 
what he regarded as an accursed impostor, “ Oh 
dear! oh, dear me!’' he exclaimed, in an under 
tone,. audible to himself, “ I wish I was out of this 
horrid place. Catch me here again, once I quit it. 
What a fool I am. It looks as if the ' spirits’ or 
the devil would haunt such a rookery as this. But 
then it would not do to insult the young lady who 
asked me to come here v/ith her, and who is so 
kind and good to me. No, no, no; .1 must have 
patience and take it cool, as she often tells me.” 
In the meantime, during the anxious- hour and more 
that the young man had waited in the sitting-room, 
into which a little girl of cropped hair and a very 
large nose, dressed in bloomer costume, used now 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


149 


and again to peep at him through the half-closed 
door, there was an earnest and almost angry dia- 
logue going on in the dark inner room between our 
academy principal and the medium. 

“ See this note you gave Redtop,” spoke Miss 
Spoones. “ Was not that a nice answer to give 
the poor half-crazed fellow when he came to con- 
sult you ? I thought you had more sense. 

Your intended shall be yours for life. 

Though she shall be another’s wife.’ ” 

What sort of a riddle is this ? ’’ 

‘‘ Well,’’ answered the medium, “ was not this 
as good an answer as I could give him under the 
circumstances ? He could not understand it. Did 
you not tell me to give him a doubtful answer } ” 

“ I did, certainly. But then, there is- no doubt 
here. You told him I. should be another’s wife, and 
that sets him crazier still than he ever was.” 

“No doubt I did. But -had I not your own 
words that you had made up your mind to marry 
the young student^ whatever would become of Red- 
top and his engagements? ” 

“Yes; but I told you this piece of my mind 
in confidence. Don’t you know that if this was 
generally known I would lose the academy? — a 
thing that Jake Squires, the vice-president under 
me, is so anxious for ; and besides, Redtop, if he 
suspected this, would bring matters to a crisis, and 
worse than all, if young Ronay got the slightest 
hint that I was engaged to Redtop, he would never 


1 50 PROFIT AND LOSS, 

again walk another step with me. You see, now, 
how imprudent you were in giving him, Redtop, 
such a puzzling answer. Now you must pretend 
to amend it by inserting ‘ not’ before the words 
‘ another’s wife,’ and that may calm him.” 

“Yes, I can do that, but then he won’t receive 
it now after the scene in meeting last Sabbath.” 

“Yes he will; leave that to me. By-the-by, 
you did a very foolish thing last Sabbath. You 
should not have gone to hear Redtop, and as you 
did go, you should have kept mum, not said a 
word. The hearers didn’t know it was you that 
was present, you were so veiled and disguised, and 
there was no apology for you to brandish that pis- 
tol, — that was madness.” 

“ I beg to differ with you, Polly dear. If I had 
not brandished the pistol, the trustees who were 
around me would have succeeded in arresting me,' 
and then it would have been all over with me — as a 
medium, anyhow. The shooting-irons scared the 
cowardly trustees.” 

“No doubt of it. But then, I fear for you yet. 
It is not all over about that scrape in meeting. 
They are talking of having you arrested for dis- 
turbing public worship, and if they should do 
so, of course your lucrative career as a medium 
would be at an end. Let’s see ; how much have 
you saved now during the three years you have 
been telling fortunes in this place ? ” 

“ I am not three years, nor fully two years, in 
this house.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


. i5t 

“ I know you are not over two years domiciled 
here with Mrs. Broadher, but you know you used 
to come here in disguise, three days a week, before 
your final taking up of your residence in this house. 
You must have made one hundred dollars a week 
anyhow, so at that rate you must now be worth 
from ten to twelve thousand dollars.” 

^‘Oh, how you do exaggerate, Polly. No, I am 
not worth five thousand dollars, only about four 
thousand. You forgot I have to give one-third of 
all I make^ to the lady of the house.” 

‘‘ Well, with four thousand dollars you can live 
very well, even if they do break up your business. 
But that depends altogether on Elder Bull, when 
he returns home after election. If he tells Redtop 
to follow you up and arrest you, nothing can save 
you ; but it little matters to you, as your fortune is 
made anyhow.” 

Oh Polly dearest, if ever you exerted yourself 
on my behalf, let it be now. Go and see Bull when 
he returns and persuade him by all means to over- 
look the affair in the meeting7house. I wish to 
hold on here a little longer till I have made the 
five thousand dollars, and then I do not care what 
happens. I will then go East and publish or 
sell those sketches which I privately took of all 
the male and female fools who consulted me, and 
then can't I live in spite of them all.” 

I wish it may be so, for your and my sake, for 
it is beginning to be suspected that I have some 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


152 . 

share in your gains ; I defend you and advocate 
your cause at all our sociables. They are begin- 
ning to think that it is not for nothing that I so 
often defend the • ‘ celebrated Russian medium/ 
Madame Tetoffskoff, ha! ha! ha! as some call you, 
while with others you are Mrs. Richards, widow of 
old Richards who was killed in the circus.” 

“ Nor is it either. For when all this is over, as 
over I mean it shall be in one year more, I shall 
make you a present of a set of diamond jewelry, 
the like of which won’t be in this State.. But you 
make sure and keep that old hypocrite Bull from 
butting me, for he is a perfect savage when his 
temper is up.’' 

“ I know what he is and what they all are, but 
whatever can be done I will do for you, depend on 
that. But let old Bull do his worst, you can make 
a fortune in spite all he can do. 'There are many 
ways of killing dogs, as the saying is, besides chok- 
ing them with butter. Did you hear of the 
‘escaped nun,’ as . she calls herself, ‘Miss Polly 
Audry,’ who is going around all the great cities 
and making a rapid fortune by her lectures ? 

“ No, I have not heard much of her on account 
of being obliged to keep so close here for the last 
two years, fearing detection. Tell me all about 
the ‘ escaped nun.’ ” 

“ Oh, it would take me too long if I told you 
all. She declares she escaped from a nunnery, 
though, if the truth was told, it is how she was 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


53 


expelled by the nuns. But what matter, as she 
makes money and draws crowded houses. She 
delivers three lectures — one for married people, men 
and womerij one for ladies only, and one for young 
men. In each of the lectures she relates a differ- 
-ent lot of stories about priests and nuns and sis- 
ters.” 

“ Oh, what a splendid chance to make money. 
I wish I was an escaped nun instead of a medium. 
She must be real clever, that one.” . 

“ No, not very. But she has a clever man, a 
Baptist minister, who has married her to manage 
her business and write her lectures. When she 
quit the nunnery, and announced herself a lecturer 
against the sisters, a number of clever ministers, as 
many as twenty-five of them, proposed to marry 
her, for they saw there was a fortune in her ; but 
they were all loo late except this Baptist, a Red 
Elder Choker. Pity poor Redtop was not smart ; 
this would be a good chance for him to improve 
his finances.’’ 

“ Well then, as she married this Elder Choker, 
why does she not take his name as Mrs. Choker, 
instead of her maiden name. Miss Polly Audry?” 

“ Oh that would never do. She would draw no 
houses as Mrs. Elder Choker. It is in the maiden 
name, Polly Audry, that the magic lies. This .is 
what draws the crowds. The young men and 
young ladies, as well as the married, want to hear 
all file scandals she relates, about her former life in 


154 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the nunnery. You never heard such yarns as she 
tells — funnier than any novel ever written.” 

Did you hear her?” 

“ Oh yes, three times ; once last summer, down 
East, during vacation, and again in Chicago on my 
way back, on two different nights. I would not 
have missed her for anything. I will tell you what 
she said some other time. But now, as it is grow- 
ing dark, give me that letter and the magic like- 
ness of my future husband.” 

There they are, take them, and may you pros- 
per in your new conquest.” 

Good-bye, dearest,” she said, departing. 

When Miss Spoones came out to where young 
Mulroony was impatiently awaiting her, she made 
signs to him to be still and beckoned him to her 
side. 

I have, dear friend,” she said, a great secret 
to tell you, or rather to show you — a gift from the 
spirits, which, if you promise to guard, faithfully, I 
will communicate to you.” 

“ Oh,” he answered, of course I shall keep it 
secret if it will not compromise me in my obliga- 
tions to my fellow-men and my conscience.” 

‘‘ Oh, not at all. It regards me. This medium 
has done me many a favor. After my papa’s death 
she procured me a long interview with his spirit, 
so that I am now sure where he is, and that he is 
happy.” 

“ Indeed,” incredulously replied the young man. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


155 


‘‘ I should not rely much on these spiritual mani- 
festations, unless after the most incontestable evi- 
dence of their presence and veracity.” 

Oh, I had the clearest evidence of both. In 
fact I saw papa as clear as I see you now, and he 
told me what nobody else on earth knew but him- 
self. And now I have asked her again for the 
revelation of what is to me the next important 
event in my existence, and she has procured me 
this ‘ spiritual mirror,’ in which I can always see 
the most beloved object tome in the world, namely, 
my future partner. There is the mirror,” she said, 
showing him a square block of some varnished 
material, like a book, “ but no person can see any- 
thing but myself.” 

The young Irishman looked at it, and no sooner 
did he do so than he saw his own likeness on the 
cover. He looked up to Miss Spoones rather 
alarmed, but when he returned his astonished 
gaze to the toy, nothing appeared but the polished 
cover. 

“What’s the matter?” she said, noticing his 
confusion. 

“ Oh, nothing ; I thought I saw some figure on 
that block cover.” 

“ Oh, no; that could not be. It is only to me 
that any appearance will be visible on the back of 
this ‘ spiritual gift,’” and with that she thrust it 
into her pocket. 

After this little episode in the arts of spiritism. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


156 

the pair quickly left the haunted mansion of Mrs. 
Broadher and they separated, the lady in the flush . 
of the consciousness of the success of her schemes, 
as sh-e surmised, to get a husband; whjle the stu- 
dent, half ashamed, self-condemned and puzzled, 
plodded his way heavily and slowly towards the 
shelter of his honest, quiet, paternal roof, with 
doubt in his mind, dulness in his imagination and 
disgust in his heart. Was it imagination or the 
devil that made hirn see his likeness on the magic 
toy? He could not tell. 

After the departure of Miss Spoones, the me- 
dium felt in high spirits at the prospects there was 
of her business continuing in a flourishing condi- 
tion for a year or two, at least, to come, for she felt 
confident that while she had such an influential 
advocate in the outward world as the principal of 
the academy, there was very little danger that 
Redtop, or any of his sort, could hurt her business 
much. She, therefore, after indulging in a fit of 
very hearty laughter at the success of her policy, 
burst out into such ejaculations as, “ haw ! haw ! 
haw ! I am an able dealer sure ; who can beat me ?” 
She then turned to her large, well-secured trunk, 
unlocked it, and taking out a portfolio, she counted 
out her money, bills, bonds and specie. After two 
hours of tedious counting and recounting of all she 
had, she found it amounted to $4,700. 

“A pretty nice sum,” she said, speaking in a 
low whisper, “ to have made in less than three 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


157 


years at telling fortunes. Poor fools,” she added, 
in the same cautious whisper, “ had they known 
where and how the Russian medium got her start- 
ling knowledge they would burn the house over 
her head.” 

As she was gloating over the neatly adjusted 
piles of notes, bills and specie, the hundreds, 
fifties, twenties, tens, and fives, placed in separate 
layers, and the gold and silver apd cartridges, there 
was a sudden knock at the door, and the voice 
heard saying: “ Open, open quick, dear! Hurry, 
or you are undone ! ’’ 

She opened the cover of the trunk, and swept 
the whole load of money, piled on the cover of it, 
into its bottom. Then she opened the door. It 
was Miss Spoones who was there. 

“ Oh, you must be off, right away,” said she. 
“They have a warrant out for you. They will 
arrest, expose, and seize on all your money as got 
by imposition ! ” 

“Oh, don’t you say so. How is it, or do you 
wish- to frighten me ? ” replied the medium. 

“ No such thing. Elder Bull is returned, almost 
sure of his election, the old brute ; and he insists 
that you must be arrested. He says you are a 
devil, or a she-Jesuit, and that you must be driven 
out of the town, or all the people will be seduced 
by your lying wonders.” 

‘‘ Why did you not go to see the old cuss, and 
prevail on him for your sake, to let me be this 
time ? ’’ 


158 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

** I did, but he would not listen to me. He is 
now stiff, expecting he will be elected, and, besides, 
he is against me for taking young Ronay’s part 
when he nearly killed his son ‘ Sike,’ as they call 
him. You must be off immediately, for the con- 
stables will be here forthwith.’* 

“Oh, where will I go? Can’t you hide me, 
dear cousin ? ” 

“ No, no. They would find you out in our 
house. There is a poor, but genteel, Irish family 
one mile east of here ; go there. Their names are 
Bryson. Tell them I sent you. Their daughter 
comes to the academy ; or I will go with you my- 
self.-’ 

“ Oh, what shall I do ? My money is all scat- 
tered in the trunk. What shall I do with it ? ” 

“ Gather it up and take it in your satchel. 
There, there, have you it all in ? Now be off,” 
she said, after helping her to pack the money into 
a small satchel. 

She was off in quick march, and she had need 
to be, for scarcely had she crossed the garden and 
passed into the little bridle-path through the grove, 
on her way to Bryson’s, when two constables were 
knocking at her door for admittance. But 'she was 
gone, and safe at the Irish laborer’s humble home. 
They did not know that she was the medium, or 
who she was, but took her in, for she was -accom- 
panied by the principal of the academy. Miss 
Spoones, who asked, as a favor, that she would be 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


159 

received, and promised that she, Miss Spoones, 
would pay for any charge that should be made for 
the trouble of accommodating this lady. 

Oh, wisha, not a charge,’’ said Mrs. Bryson, 
“ shall be made, if the lady can put up with our 
humble place, ma’am, if she is to stay for a month, 
or three of them. She can occupy little Biddy’s 
room.” 

Thank you, Mrs. Bryson,’’ said Miss Spoones ; 
“ where is Bidilia, Madam Bryson ; I did not see 
her for over a week at the academy ? ” 

“ You mean Biddy, Miss. Oh, she goes up to 
the Irish Corners now, every day, to prepare for 
the Bishop, who is going to give Confirmation 
there next month.” 

Oh, indeed ! I am sorry she has to neglect 
her classes, as this will put her back very much.” 

“ Oh, no matther. Miss, how she goes in her 
learnin’, if she goes right wid her soul. Shure, as 
the priest says, what is the whole world to us, 
God help us, if we lose our souls ? ” 

Well, good-bye, cousin ; keep very still, till I 
come to see you again,” said our clever young 
academician, departing. 

There was uproar in the town again. The me- 
dium had gone off, after defying the preacher and 
humbugging the people. Mrs. Broadher was arrest- 
ed, and examined at court, but nothing could be 
got out of her in reference to who or where the 
medium was. When asked was she (the medium) 
well patronized, she answered : 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


i6o 

“Yes, I have been well patronized. You all 
know this as well as me. For there is hardly one, 
young or old, man or woman, boy or girl, preacher 
or pickpocket^ minister or man-catcher, but con- 
sulted her, time and again. Sign is on it,” she 
added ; “she has made her fortune out of ye ! She 
is worth ten thousand in gold ! ” 

“In gold, do you swear?” said the Squire. 
“How do you know? Did you see it in gold, 
aye?” 

“Yes, I guess I did see it, and handled it too, 
often.” 

“ That was terrible, that such an impostor should 
take so much money away with her to Russia, out 
of this impoverished country,’’ remarked the Squire, 
who, though dull as he was on ordinary occasions, 
was sure to be all attention when gold was spoken 
of. The sound of the gold arou^^d his honor. The 
investigation was about to be adjourned sine die^ as 
there was no account of the medium, when the 
parish priest. Father John, was seen riding into 
town, after having called into Bryson’s house, to 
hear the confession of the old man, who was a cen- ' 
tenarian. While waiting on the old man, he no- 
ticed a stranger in the kitchen, and asking Mrs. 
Bryson who that was, she stated, “she did not 
know ; that she had been introduced last night, by 
Miss Spoones.” 

. “ Ha! ha!” he said, “ I think I have seen that 
one before. She looks very much like the famous 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


l6l 


Miss Skinner that disappeared from these parts 
some three years ago or so.’’ 

“ O yes, I hope not, your reverence,’’ said Mrs. 
Bryson. “If that was the case, I would not keep 
her a. minute in the house.” 

“ Don’t disturb her,” said the priest, departing. 
“That would not be hospitable. Say not a word 
to her about that event — keep silent.” 

As soon as Father John left, after having dis- 
charged his duty to the dying man, a travelling 
Jewish peddler, who had been exhibiting his 
wares in Mrs. Bryson’s, picked up his parcels and 
departed • also. Whether he overheard the con- 
versation between the priest and Mrs. Bryson, or 
had his suspicions aroused from some other cause, 
it appeared that he conjectured rightly concerning 
the absconding medium. Hence, hoping’ to get a 
reward for his information, he repaired to the 
court-room where the investigation was being held, 
and communicated his suspicions to Squire Drows. 
That official immediately issued his warrant, and 
sent two constables to make the arrest of the 
lady’ at Mrs. Bryson’s. 

One hour’s time was all that- was needed to 
clear up these suspicions, and in little short of 
that time the constables, Thomas Grabbit and 
Philip Holt, entered the court-room with the cele- 
brated Russian medium, called Mrs. Teloffskoff, 
Mrs. Richards, and other aliases, who was no other 
than the lost Miss Lizzie Skinner, in custody. The 


i 62 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


spectators as well as ‘‘ the court,” bless the mark ! 
were thunderstruck. At first the most intense 
curiosity manifested itself, and all wanted to have 
a look at the one returned, as it were, from the 
grave. Some nodded to the long-lost old maid ; 
others addressed her and welcomed her, and some 
went so far as to shake hands with and embrace 
her. Finally the public feeling was manifested in 
applause loud, vehement, and so continuous that 
the squire dismissed the charge against her, and 
she returned in triumph with her friends to her 
home. 

‘‘ After all,” they said, “ she was a -smart woman, 
Lizzy was. She disappeared of her own accord, 
made lots of money, and now returned to her 
friends independent. It was a . g — r — e — a — t 
consolation,” the people said, “ that if she did 
make lots of money it did not go to Russia or 
any foreign country, but remained at home for 
the good of the community, and to encourage 
trade.” This action of Miss Skinner’s proved her to 
be a woman of genius, and notwithstanding that 
she was despised by the ministers, and it was their 
fault that she was discovered before she desired it, 
and rather disadvantageous^, there was little fear, 
it . was allowed on all hands, but she could get a 
good husband with her five or ten thousand dol- 
lars in gold. Who would dare to talk of fraud, 
hypocrisy or imposition against anybody, and 
especially a lady, with ten thousand dollars in 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


163 

gold? Ay, or even half that, as Elder Fribbler re- 
marked, was enough to make any woman respec- 
table, even if she was not respectable already, as 
Miss Skinner certainly was, it was allowed on all 
hands. 

“ But what about the false information that 
went abroad about her abduction, and the lying 
telegrams that were dispatched, and the meetings 
held, and the newspaper articles written, and the 
other injuries done to a respectable class of the 
people, namely, the Roman Catholic population of 
the country?” asked Mr. McBeth of this shallow- 
headed preacher. 

“ Oh, as for that, it can’t, now be mended,” 
answered the preacher. “ Anyhow, those Roman- 
ists deserved what was said against them, and 
much more. We can’t say too much against the 
Catholics, and if Miss Skinner is safe and well to- 
day, no thanks to them. If what was said did 
not turn out exactly true, it was very like what 
might have happened if ‘ the Lord’ had not saved 
her.” In other words, Si non e vero e ben tro- 
vato^"* as the Italian proverb has it. If what 
sectarians say of the church is not true, their 
preachers will make it pass for truth among their 
deluded followers. And this is Methodist morality ! 



CHAPTER XIV. 

** Quis talia fando : Ternperet a lacry mis ? ” — ^Virgil. 

“ Who can relate such woes without a tfear ? ” 

AVID, David, hurry downstairs — make 
haste, wake up Aunt Sally ! Quick, quick, 
lose no time ! Oh Lord ! I fear father 
and mother are dead. My God, my God, 
Hcy on their souls ! ’’ 

Such were the exclamations of young Patrick 
Mulroony one morning as he arose about daylight, 
after a night spent very restlessly. He hastened 
downstairs, having fancied that he heard a noise 
as of some person falling heavily, and when he 
entered the chamber in which his father was con- 
fined for over two weeks, he found his mother on 
the floor, apparently lifeless, but still breathing 
heavily ; but, on approaching his father’s he.dside, 
perceived' that he was in the cold rigor of death, 
pale and breathless. He fell on his knees, burst 
into a fit of the most heartrending sorrow, and 
cried aloud * 



have 


PROFIT AJ\ri) FOSS. 


165 


. “ O father, father, why did you depart unknown 
to me, now your only son ! Oh, why did you not 
give me your blessing before leaving me forever ? 
Oh, oh, I can’t live, I must not live, after my good, 
best of fathers. Oh, let me die, let me quit this 
now detested life, since my father has left me. Oh, 
mother dear,’’ he added, perceiving that she had 
returned to consciousness under the good treat- 
ment of Aunt Sally, “ why did you not tell me that 
father was dying ? Why did you not call me, that . 
I might get his jast blessing, and crave his dying 
pardon for all myoffences against him ? Oh moth- 
er^, mother, you should have called me when you 
saw danger ! ” 

“ Oh, holy Virgin, comfort me,” answered the 
good mother ; “ oh, my poor, sad child, sure I had 
no notion that he was dying, till I saw the damp 
of death on his brow, and then I fell back senseless 
myself, and do not know how long I remained in 
that condition. Did you send for the priest and 
the doctor, to see if they can tell us what caused 
him to die. so suddenly? Oh, woe, woe, my poor 
husband, my good husband ! ” 

“Yes, mother, I sent David to summon them, 
but what use is it now when my noble father is 
cold and stiff in death. Oh, my dear good father,, 
my dear father ! ” 

This scene continued for two hours at least, till 
the priest, Father John, arrived, who, without wait- 
ing for Doctor Blackman, who arrived an hour 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


1 66 

after, made an examination of the corpse, and 
found that death was caused by hemorrhage from 
one of the tibial arteries. Mr. Mulroony, as the 
reader will remember, was severely frost-bitten in 
his lower extremities, on his return home after an 
evening spent drinking of the poisonous beverage 
of Mrs. Mastiff. The surgeon from the village of 
Brighton attended him, and from want of experi- 
ence in bandaging the affected lirnbs, caused them 
to swell to an enormous size, so that the lint, sink- 
ing into the swollen flesh, acted as a foreign body, 
causing the inflammation to become a very aggra- 
vated character, till finally, gangrene setting in, 
soon made short work of the muscles, and invading 
a leading artery, the man died in .fifteen minutes, 
without pain or consciousness, for he was under 
the influence of opiates. His loving wife, thinking 
that he had a comfortable sleep, did not mind to 
disturb him while he remained quiet. It was only 
when she went over to his bedside to offer him his 
drink of beef-tea, about daybreak, that she found 
him dead. She fell back to the floor unconscious 
from the shock, and it was her fall that aroused 
her son Patrick from his disturbed slumbers. 

When the self-styled ‘^surgeon” arrived, after 
looking at the dead man s face and placing his 
coarse mechanic hand over the heart of deceased, 
he would fain persuade the spectators that death 
was caused either by poison from some improper 
food, or heart disease, for he said that '‘ he 
5 


was 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


167 

doing excellent well when I visited him yesterday ; 
that he certainly could not have died from the in- 
juries to his frozen limbs, that was sure.” 

“ Are you a surgeon ? ” interrupted the priest, 
Father John. 

“Yes, I profess to be,” replied the quack. 

“Well then, I am sorry your profession and 
practice do not agree. For if you profess surgery 
and practice quackery, you are no better than an 
impostor! ” 

“ That is pretty severe language for a clergy- 
man, I think,” replied the doctor. 

“Yes,” said the priest,” it maybe severe, but 
you can’t say it is not true. Truth, you ought to 
know, is sometimes bitter or unpalatable. Did you 
ever hear tell of a man dying of hemorrhage.” 

“ Yes, of course ; I often saw persons die of that 
complaint.” 

“Complaint, do you call it? Now,” added the 
priest, “ can you tell me why that complication is 
called ‘ hemorrhage,’ and not 'demorrhage^ or ‘ pem- 
orrhage.” 

“ I suppose because that is the proper name for 
the disease.” 

“No, you can’t tell me, not a bit of it. I see 
you are not an educated man, how then could you 
be a safe surgeon ? Look there,” said Father John, 
lifting the clothes from the bed ; “ see that pool of 
blood. That’s what killed your patient, and in my 
opinion you ought to be held responsible for his 


i68 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


death ! Be off now, from this house of sorrow, 
caused by your ignorance, and let me never again, 
I warn you, see your face in this settlement, or I 
will have you prosecuted for malpractice in this and 
other cases in which you have grossly blundered ! 

The chopfallen surgeon went off, not, however, 
without demanding his fees for attending on the 
sick man, whom he relieved of all bodily pain, sure 
enough, by his grossly ignorant prescription‘s. The 
whole community at Brighton became highly 
incensed against Father John, on account of the 
summary manner in^ which he cut off his ( Black- 
man’s) practice among the people of his settlement. 

The next time he visited the village he was told 
that all the preachers commented on his encounter 
with the surgeon. Dr. Blackman, on the preceding 
Sabbath ’’ evening discourse, taking occasion to 
disclaim against the tyranny of the Catholic Church 
which, the preachers said, if it had the power, would 
not only abolish the pleasing variety that existed, 
in the different denominations of Christians, but also 
compel men to' practice medicine by diploma, by 
refusing to recognize any but the regular professors, 
graduates of colleges.- Now, every man who had 
genius, and thought himself could practice 

medicine, and this offered a chance to many men to 
make a comfortable living, who otherwise would 
have to labor for a living. 

“ What’s this you’ve done to our surgeon, the 
ex-shoemaker, the other day, up at the Irish set- 
tlement ?” said Mr. Broadhead to Father John. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


169 

Nothing at all,” answered the priest, “ except 
to tell him to give up doctoring, and g'o back to 
the 'surgery of old shoes again, or else learn some- 
thing of his business. ’Tis too bad that such men 
are allowed to trifle with the lives of the people, as 
they do.” 

“ Well, the people here think it’s all for the good 
of trade, and that every man has a right to make a 
living the best way he can.” 

“ That would be well enough, if, in making his 
living, he did not cut short the living and the lives 
of his fellow-men. Is it not too bad that, while a 
man has to learn his trade to be employed as a 
shoemaker, a tailor, or a blacksmith, the only men 
who serve no apprenticeship, who need to learn 
nothing, are those who profess to practice two of 
the learned professions, namely, doctors and preach- 
ers. Where the learning is needed, it seems, there 
it is sadly wanting.” 

“ That is so, assuredly. But you see the people 
are their own best judges in the matter, and if they 
risk themselves to be killed by such surgeons, it’s 
their own loss.” 

“True enough; but yet, if a man is mad 
enough to do away with himself, the laws do not 
allow him. He is put in 'a place of safety. So, 
also, the law ought to interfere in the case of men 
who take upon themselves to practice a profession, 
the good or evil use of which cannot but seriously 
affect the health and life of the people. He is a 


I/O 


PROFIT A ND LOSS. 


man who knows no more about surgery than I do 
about ‘ spirit-rapping/ and yet he undertakes the 
charge of cases of sickness or injury, which demand 
all the knowledge of the most experienced and 
learned practitioners. Is this right? Am I to 
blame because I warn my people against the igno- 
rance or rashness of that man ? Surely the people 
are wrong here, if they think as you say they do.” 

“ The people here think you have no right to 
interfere. This man, they say, has a family to 
support, and if he was generally regarded as you 
regard him, he would starve.” 

*‘No, he would not starve. Have we not poor- 
houses ? And even if he should starve, or have to 
return again to his old trade of mending shoes, is 
not that better than that he should fill a couple of 
graveyards in his efforts to try to support his own 
family?” 

“ That’s true enough. Yet the people think 
it’s all for the good of trade. There is the under- 
taker and coffin-maker, who make money fast from 
the practice of such men as Blackman. They do 
not care, of course, how many die, or what kills 
them, provided they get the job to rig them out 
for the grave. And our preachers here take the 
same view of the matter. 

“ I am sorry they do. But when we recollect 
they themselves are in the spiritual, as they call it, 
the Christian commonwealth of life, what the quack 
surgeons are in the physical life of the community, 


P’ROFIT AND LOSS. 


171 

namely, unauthorized, uneducated religious quacks, 
we need not be surprised that they make common 
cause with the former. ‘ Birds of a feather flock 
together. ’ ’’ 

There is some truth in what you say. Do 
you recollect the case of Miss Skinner, some short 
while ago? They were all ready to burn that 
medium, who imposed on them so long and so 
lucratively, but when they found out that she had 
the cash, and was one of their own sort, then all 
was changed — all their former hatred was turned 
into admiration. Now she has dozens of suitors, 
all trying to get her hand and her money. Queer 
world we live in.” 

‘‘ I know all this, and I lament it. ’Tis melan- 
choly to think that money will stand in the place 
of everything. Let. a man have neither virtue, 
religion, nor worth, if he has but money he is all 
right. ’Tis too bad it should be so ; but we all see 
it is so,” said the. priest emphatically. 

“ Was this Blackman the only surgeon who 
attended Mr. Mulroony during his late illness?” 

“Yes; he was the only surgeon, as he calls 
himself. There was no other nearer than some 
twenty miles, and when he came, he made so light 
of the case that it was not regarded as dangerous. 
When inflammation set in, however, the patient’s 
limbs became tumid^ and owing to bad bandaging, 
which was too tightly bound over the limbs, gan- 
grene set in, ate through the artery, and he died 


172 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


from hemorrhage — loss of blood. .Blackman would 
persuade them the man was poisoned, till I showed 
him the blood.” 

“ I am very sorry. That Mulroony appeared 
to be a fine man, of high honor and sound princi- 
ples. He was universally respected.” 

Oh, there was no honester man than poor 
Michael. He was, • besides, a religious man, and 
though his death was sudden and unexpected, it 
was by no means unprepared for. I visited him 
two days before he died, as I did, indeed, regularly 
twice a week since his accident, and I must say 
that I was very much edified by his conduct and 
sentiments. He had all his temporal affairs ar- 
ranged, too, and though his wife and family will 
miss him, death to him, I am confident, was only 
the beginning of a never-ending happiness.” 

‘‘ Indeed, I have no doubt. He was a good 
Christian, if ever there was one. He is generally 
regretted by all our citizens, and will have, I am 
sure, a very large funeral. When will he be 
buried?” 

“ Next Monday, at ten o’clock in the forenoon, 
when a solemn Requiem will be offered for his soul 
in our Church. By-the-by, I must be off, to have 
suitable arrangements made to accommodate the 
crowds which I know will fill the church on the 
melancholy occasion. So I wish you good-day.” 

“ Good-day, Father John, and thank you for 
your visit. Call when you come to town next.” 

“ I shall do so. Farewell.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


173 


The funeral took place punctually at the Cath- 
olic church, which was draped in mourning for the 
occasion. There were several clergymen from 
distant parts present at the invitation of the pastor 
and at the expense of the widow of the deceased. 
The entire adult population of a great part of the 
country was present to do honor to the memory of 
the dead. There were no less than two hundred 
and fifty vehicles of all descriptions in the funeral 
cortege. And the chanting of the service was 
grave and solemn, if not very artistic. Father 
John himself, the parish priest, preached the ser- 
mon, which was a learned explanation of the 
Catholic faith regarding the middle state of souls, 
rather than a panegyric of the deceased. He 
proved the grounds of the Catholic doctrine on 
this point, from reason, tradition, history, scripture 
and the unvarying practice of the leading Chris- 
tians and Jewish churches. He showed that if each 
man is to be rewarded according to his works, then 
there must be gradation in the punishments and 
rewards, as there are grades of guilt and merit in 
human actions. This he proved from the legisla- 
tion of all nations and peoples. In the very dawn 
of creation and the twilight of sacred history, pa- 
triarchs, saints and prophets spoke of a lower and 
lowest Hell^ and prayed to be delivered the horrors 
of those penal dungeons. Pious Pagans them- 
selves retained in mutilated form the knowledge of 
this oldest point of Revelation, while the modern 


1/4 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


and ancient Jews have been unvarying in the pres- 
ervation of this original doctrine of primitive Rev- 
elation. 

So great was the confidence of the ancient 
people of God, in the efficacy of prayers and sac-, 
rifices for the dead, that Josephus, the historian, 
mentions that many Jewish families ruined them- 
selves in property, in order to discharge what their 
faith required to be done for , the dead, for they 
believed “ it was a holy and wholesome thought to 
pray” for them. Who can count the churches, 
chapels, monasteries, hospitals, and other charit- 
able institutions, that owe their origin to this 
belief during sixteen hundred years of the flourish- 
ing existence of the Christian Church ? As easy, 
and easier would it be to count the stars in the 
heavens, as count the religious foundations which 
this faith gave birth to. On the other hand, he 
said, what could be more unmeaning and useless, 
if not extravagant and silly, than all the pomp and 
ceremony over the grave, if all goes to honor the 
body without doing .any good to the soul, the im- 
mortal and divine part of man ? 

The sermon finished, then the services over 
the body were performed according to Rubrics, 
and then the coffin was removed to its final resting- 
place, in the pure peaceful grave. The grave was 
blessed, the coffin lowered down, and what remain- 
ed of poorj honest Michael Mulroony was thus 
committed to its final resting-place, amid the 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


175 


prayers of the church, the sympathetic sorrow of 
his neighbors, and the moving heartrending grief 
of his widow, his children, and his relations. Re- 
quiescat in pace. Amen.” 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE BAD SEED BEGINS TO GERMINATE. 


N the occasion of his father’s death, and 
during the period of a week or ten days 
after, young Patrick Mujroony indulged 
in paroxysms of the most excessive grief. 
He abstained from all manner of food for three 
whole days, and he wept until the tears ceased to 
flow, and. the source of them, in the lachrymal 
glands, became dried up. He would receive no 
comfort, listen to no advice or remonstrance from 
mother, sisters or brothers, till at length, fearing 
that there was danger of his health, if not of 
his life, the neighbors were called in, and forcing 
his room door, in which he locked himself in, they 
compelled him to take some nourishment, and 
change his apparel. • There is a blessing pronounced 
on those “ who mourn,” and a grief which brings 
comfort and life to the soul ; but this species of 
sorrow must be accompanied with resignation to 
the Divine will, and have its origin in humility 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


177 


and charity. But there is also a species of sorrow 
which brings death to the soul, because, growing 
out of pride, it is unaccompanied by any super- 
natural motives, and leads to despair and final 
impenitence. We will not say whether or not it 
was this mundane, inordinate grief that took 
possession of our young friend, but certain it is, 
that its effects were in marked contrast with the 
subdued and deep, but calm sorrow that was rhan- 
ifested by the other members of the family. They 
shed tears in torrents, and uttered accents of the 
most bitter grief, but while doing so, their eyes 
were raised to heaven, fervent prayers ascended 
from their -contrite hearts, and they fasted and 
imposed austerities on themselves, on behalf of the 
beloved one who had left them. His sorrow was 
solitary, sour, repulsive and violent ; theirs was 
heartfelt, calm, devout and amiable. In a word, 
his grief was of the earth, earthly, while that of 
the rest of the family was sacred, sincere, self-de- 
nying, and supernatural. The young man vented 
his sorrow in his loud sobs and vehement actions 
as he rambled around the farm and visited the 
scenes which his father frequented and admired 
while in life ; while his mother and the rest ©f 
the family who came from the East to pay the last 
honors to their father, drove every morning to the 
church, to assist at the holy sacrifice offered for 
his soul, and read the Litanies at night, in com- 
mon, with the same intention. 


178 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


It was noticed by his mother that, for some 
cause or other, Patrick was generally absent from 
the family circle on these occasions. He was either 
in town, and returned not till, after night prayers, 
or busy around the farm when the rest were ready 
to start for the church, or oyerslept himself, or 
there was some other excuse of visits paid by, or 
made to him, but during the whole time that his 
brothers and sisters remained, he never spent an 
hour in their company, either at devotion or in 
social chat. It seemed strange to Michael and 
Hugh, but they said nothing, attributing his strange 
conduct to the excessive sadness that took posses- 
sion of him since the late sad event. If he was 
most of the time absent from the homestead, and 
his hours became more irregular, these . circum- 
stances were attributed to the increasing cares 
which devolved on the young man now since he 
became the inheritor of his father’s estate, and had 
to transact all the affairs thereunto belonging. He 
had to prepare for the Spring work on the farm, to 
employ agricultural workmen, to have agricultural 
implements in order, and to purchase the teams 
which he considered were needed for an enlarged 
area of cultivation on the farm. His mother 
remarked that many persons, strangers to her, had 
been paying him visits, but taking them to be 
travelling insurance agents, agricultural implement 
sellers, tree-hucksters, patent bee-hive or churn -Ven- 
dors, or some of the other countless agents who 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


179 


manage to lead an idle, easy life, at the expense of 
the farmers, she paid no attention to them, nor did 
she interrogate her son about them. 

One day, however, after the departure of one 
of those nice perfumed ^ gentle^nen ’ visitors, the old 
lady picked up a sort of handbill printed in small 
type, which she managed to read by the aid of 
her spectacles, but which shocked her delicacy very 
much after having read it, and which she cast at 
once into the stove. In the paper there was men- 
tion made of a “ book of very nice pictures, so life- 
like and charming,^and also containing ‘ mysterious 
secrets,’ all of which any person could have in a 
sealed envelope for one dollar ! ” 

“ Patrick,” the old lady said, on the departure 
of the elegant gentleman mentioned above, who 
is that chap, or what is his business ^vith you, that 
you entertained him so long in your room? He 
looked like a Dublin dancing-master, tricked out 
in all his curls, flashy cravat, and counterfeit chains 
and rings ? ” 

Oh, that’s an agent for an Eastern pictorial 
newspaper. He was showing me specimens of the 
illustrations ; that’s what caused the delay in my 
room.’’ 

‘‘Indeed! What in the world would you want 
of such pictorial papers ? You know they are not 
Catholic papers, and therefore we don’t want them 
in the house. I have just burned a bill that that 
agent, as you call him, dropped in the hall, and 


l8o PROFIT AND LOSS. 

indeed if the paper is like the advertisement, I 
have no scruples in calling that fellow the Devil’s 
agent ; surely he’s nothing else ! ’’ 

“ Oh, I guess mother you are mistaken ; I saw no 
such advertisement as you mention. The paper 
may not be Catholic, indeed is nothing in a relig- 
ious sense, but that is no reason why you should 
call it devilish^ or the agent a tool of Satan.” 

You do not want such papers : if you wish to 
be a scholar you must stick to your school books, 
and give up reading the newspapers, and, above all, 
such silly, scandalous papers as. the pictorial jour- 
nals — ‘ Frank Leslie’s,’ ‘ Harper’s,’ ‘ Police Gazette,’ 
* Day’s Doings,’ and all such trash. Those papers 
are not fit for ordinary modest people to handle.” 

“ Mother, you are too severe in your criticisms 
on those artistic journals, which have a very wide 
circulation, and which a man that has any preten- 
sions to polite learning must read.” 

“ But I say he must not read them, even if they 
were all unexceptionable, which none of them are, 
till he has finished his studies, and mastered all his 
scientific studies thoroughly. This is what we 
were taught in the old country, at least.” 

The old country, mother, you know, is old 
and antiquated in its notions. This is a new 
country, and new ideas prevail in all things. By- 
the by,’’ he added, looking out towards the road, 
here is Professor Hoskey, coming to deliver those 
horses I bought from him to work on the farm.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. l8i 

Did you purchase a team of horses from him ? 
I don’t really like that man’s presence in this 
house. I don’t think there’s luck or grace any- 
where he is. I am sorry you had any dealing with 
him. I wish you would shun his company. We 
have not had much luck since we made his 
acquaintance.” 

“ Why, mother, would you have me to be 
uncharitable and rude ? The Professor has never 
done me any harm that I know of, and he professes 
to be my friend on all occasions.” 

^T tell you I don’t like his ways, nor did the 
man that is in the grave, — God rest his soul, — like a 
bone in that fellow’s body. I don’t wish you to be 
either rude or uncharitable, God forbid; but I 
would wish you to be frequenting the company of 
none but those whose characters are above sus- 
picion.” 

Let us drop talking, mother, or he will hear 
us. He is just coming in.” 

Good-day, good-day, ladies, and my gentle- 
man friend. How do you do, madam ? How is 
every inch of you, my bosom friend ? ” asked the 
Professor, and without waiting for a reply, he con- 
tinued rapidly, “ I see ye are both well. You look 
comely, madam, and my friend, your noble son, 
seems to be surperlatively happy, to borrow a 
grammatical term, ha ! ha ! I have studied that 
science so completely that it runs into my ordinary 
conyersation.” 


i 82 


PMOFIT AND LOSS. 


- ** Pretty well,” answered the matron, while her 
son’s answer was only a warm shake of the hand 
and a laugh. 

“ Well, my noble friend,” added the Professor, 
‘‘ I have brought you your team, the noblest span 
in the keounty. Upon my honor and veracity, I 
refused fifty dollars more for them than I sell 
them to you for. Indeed I did ; I did so, honestly. 
You know what they are my friend. You and I 
have often rode behind them on all sorts of roads, 
and in all sorts of weather. I need not praise them, 
nor shall I.” 

“Yes, Mr. Hoskey, I am satisfied that they 
are sound anyhow,” answered young Mulroony. 
“ Mother,” he said, addressing his parent, “ you 
are my treasurer, will you please hand the Professor 
his money, five hundred dollars, for his horses ? ” 

“ My dear son,” she answered, “ I am sorry 
that my store is out. My treasury is empty at 
present. All the ready money in the house was 
spent to meet the charges of your lamented father’s 
funeral. There’s not ten dollars in the house at 
present, in cash, at least in my possession.’’ 

“ Why, mother,” rejoined the young man in 
surprise, “ I thought you had over one thousand 
dollars in the house on the day father died. 
Surely it did not take all that sum to defray the 
funeral charges ? ” 

“ It did, and more than that. I even borrowed 
three hundred dollars from your brother Michael, 


PROFIT AND LOSS. ig^ 

before he left for the East, and all that is gone 
likewise.” 

“ Mother, I cannot see for the life of me how 
you could spend so much money.” 

“ But I hiow how I spent it, and if you insist 
on it, I will tell you how it was spent.” 

I don’t insist on your telling me. But it 
would be satisfactory if you would giv-e an idea of 
how the money was spent, mother.” 

‘^Yes, I will do so, in hope that when your 
poor mother dies, you will spend a like sum for 
me. I paid one thousand dollars for Masses for 
the repose of your father’s soul, and the balance I 
sent to the Orphan House in the city, to have the 
Sisters and Orphans’ prayers for his eternal rest. 
That’s where it went, and more would go if I had 
it.” 

One thousand dollars for Masses, did you 
say? Why, is not this a little extravagant ? ” 

I should say it was indeed,’’ interrupted the 
Professor, ‘‘ I never heard of such — ” 

Professor Hoskey,” said Mrs. Mulroony, “ I 
hope you will not interfere in this conversation 
between my son and me. I do not address myself 
to you, sir.” 

“ Beg pardon. Madam : beg pardon ; I did not 
mean to interrupt you ; oh, no, not I, indeed ! ” 

“Now, my son, so far from this being extrav- 
agant, if I had the money it is not one thou- 
sand Masses I would have offered for your poor 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


184 

father’s soul, but forty thousand, as Isabella did, 
the Lady of the Grand Duke Albert, Prince gf the 
Netherlands, who died about a hundred years 
ago.” 

“ Why, I do not think there is any necessity 
for that, especially since we are told the Pope can 
relieve all the souls in Purgatory. Why, then, does 
he not do it, at once?” 

So say I, too,’’ again interrupted Hoskey; I 
read in a book I have home, called the ‘ Portrait 
of Popery,’ headed, that this ‘ Purgatory is only 
an invention of . priests in the dark ages, to wring 
money out of the people.’ ” 

“ Oh, I would not go so far as that, Professor,’’ 
said Patrick, by way of apology for the harsh and 
impious slander of Hoskey. “ But I do not think 
it is necessary to lavish money in that way.” 

During most of the preceding dialogue his sis- 
ter Anne, called in religion. Sister Blesilla, was 
present, but constrained by that modest reserve 
peculiar to religious ladies, never said a word, but 
listened to the dialogue between her mother and 
brother with a compassion which compelled her to 
weep in silence. But no sooner did the blasphem- 
ies of Hoskey, and the irreverent remarks of her 
brother grate on her refined ear, than her modest 
eye kindled with indignation, and she spoke as fol- 
lows with flushed countenance : 

“ Oh, Pat, my dear brother, I am sorry to per- 
ceive that you are forgetting your Catechism and 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


185 

that you have nearly lost all the good impressions 
made. on you by the Christian Brothers, in old 
holy Ireland. Oh, I never thought I should hear 
you ridicule or listen to such blasphemies as your 
friend, the professor, has dared to utter against 
the most consoling and most ancient doctrines of 
our faith. We know it fs a holy thought to pray 
for the dead, and that the greatest and holiest 
men in the world were distinguished for this devo- 
tion. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Judas Maccabaeus 
and Saint Augustine. And for one to dare ask, 

* Why, if the Pope has power to relieve all the souls 
from a suffering state, he does not do so,’ is 
just as absurd and impious as to accuse God, the 
Creator, of cruelty, because, though His majesty 
has the power to prevent all evil, yet he by His 
adorable providence also allows and wills suffering- 
and afflictions among mankind. We are such 
insignificant worms* in the sight of God, who is 
infinite above us in all perfections, that we cannot, 
without impiety, ask Him why he does so and so. 
All we want to know is the will of God, and try to 
perform it the best way we can. Oh, Pat dear, 
my best-b.eloved brother, I never thought I should 
hear you speak thus, or listen to those who would 
try to corrupt you by such wicked notions,” she 
added, bursting into tears and quitting the room 
to hide her emotion and heartfelt sorrow. 

I am really sorry for this episode,” said the 
professor. Oh, ’tis too bad, too bad ! I would 
10 


1 86 PROFIT AND LOSS. . 

not for the hull team have made that accomplished 
lady get so excited. I did not mean anything. 
What I said, was said in half joke and half earnest. 
But I am now so accustomed to polite Yankee 
society, where a man may say anything he pleases, 
to cause a laugh, that I forgot I had religious per- 
sons near me. Too bad, too bad ! Let us come 
out.” And so saying, the worthy pair went out to 
inspect the horses. 

After quitting the house, Hoskey resumed his 
conversation with Patrick, saying: “Why, my 
young friend, do you not come round the village, as 
usual? You will be ruined, my son, if you con- 
tinue listening to these religious lectures from 
your sister and mother! By George, they will 
make a monk or a priest of you, they will ! ” 

“Oh, there is no danger; I don’t pay much 
attention to what they say. I feel bad that I 
have not your money to hand you for this team. 
But I will send’ in wheat this week, and pay you.” 

Don’t speak of money ; that will do in ten 
days hence. What I want is to free you from 
being kept under by those women folks. Why, 
man, they feel very bad in town when you are not 
among them. Miss Spoones is really distressed at 
not having seen you in ten days. We had a bril- 
liant ‘ sociable’ the other night at Elder Bull’s, but 
all the ladies were asking for you, the charming 
Ronay. ‘ There ain’t no pleasure when Ronay is 
absent,’ as Miss Spoones said to me in a whisper. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


187 

Why do you smile ? Is it on account of calling 
you Ronay? That’s what all the nice young 
ladies call you. I told you often myself, you 
should drop the prefix ‘ Mul ’ and let Patrick slide 
too. ‘ P. M. Ronay,’ let this be your signature.” 

Certainly, all my mail matter, papers and let- 
ters, are addressed to me in that form. I suppose 
I will have to adopt the alteration. Even the 
tax-collector puts my name down in that altered 
style.” 

“Yes, of course; there is no use in the world 
in maintaining -those outrageous outlandish names, 
without euphony or phonetic harmony. Oh ! by 
George, I nearly forgot. Here is a new photo- 
graph of your friend, Miss Spoones. She appeared 
in that elegant dress at the Women’s Rights Con- 
vention, last week, in Chicago. Does she not look 
charming? There was only one other lady as 
well dressed as your friend Polly, that was the 
celebrated Miss Tennie C. Claflin, sister of Vic- 
toria Woodhull, of New York.” 

“ By-the-by, Miss Spoones does look splendid 
here,” remarked Mulroony, gazing at the card. 

“ Oh ! Ronay, my best friend, you are a lucky 
coon, so you are. I wish I stood in your shoes, 
man, in the esteem of this accomplished lady.” 

“ Nonsense, man ! She does not care a fig for 
me, Hoskey.” 

“No, I guess not, aye! We hear ducks, 'old 
fellow. What a humbug you are to talk so, as if I 


X 


1 88 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

did not know. I tell you all she is, and has, is 
yours this day if you only say the word.’ 

Oh, you are only ‘ gassing’ now, Hoskey. Let 
us drop the subject for the present, or that boy 
David will hear us.” 




CHAPTER XVI. 

AN INSTANCE OF MODERN “PROGRESS.” 

H, dear me, what will become of me now, 
in my old age, and delicate state of health ? 
The Lord look to me ! Oh, my once dear 
husband ! Elder, I thought you never 
would have treated me, your lawful wife, for 
twenty years, in this man-ner.” 

“ My dear Carolina, you will suffer very little 
change in your relations with me. You need not 
be uneasy, you will be comfortable. I shall be as 
kind to you as ever.” 

“ Oh yes, you will be kind to me, but you can’t 
love me no more, how can you ? Oh, I thought the 
conference would have never given their consent. 
Oh dear me, dear me.” 

“You need not fear, but that I shall love you 
as well as ever, You can have your own room, all 
sorts of attendance, and can ride out with our man 
Oleson, with my carriage and horse the same as 
you ever did. We. will call you mother, still.’’ 



190 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Oh, do not tell me such childish tales. No, I 
shan’t stay. I will go to the County-house first. 
I could not live a week as a servant or slave in 
this house, where" I was so long mistress. I will 
go off, and speak to the Catholic priest to see if he 
won’t send me to the Sisters of Charity. They 
say he is a good man. Oh, I wish I had been 
reared a Catholic, as my mother was, in old Lan- 
cashire, now I would not have to suffer all this 
disgrace, in my old age.” 

“ My dear Carolina, it grieves me to hear you 
talk so. No, you shan’t go to the Catholics. That 
would kill me, you know. I would rather see you 
die first.” 

“I guess you would like to see me die, or take 
my own life, any way to get rid of me. The Cath- 
olic religion never allows this cursed thing! I 
often heard my good mother say, and our boy 
Moore said the same, with them there is no 
power on earth that can separate man and wife. I 
guess they are the true Christians. I never be- 
lieved in the stories our books and preachers told 
on the Catholics being idolaters. No, no, no 1 
never 1 ” 

“ Carolina, my dear, you will hurt my feelings.^ 
very seriously, if you speak thus. You know the 
Catholics are wrong and practice idolatry, because 
they are not allowed to read the Bible.” 

“ No, I guess not. They can’t read it hack- 
zvards^ as Methodists and Protestants do, to find 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


I9I 

out it sanctions divorce of man and wife, which 
the Lord never allowed.” 

My dear, do not indulge in those unevangeli- 
cal speeches. I would not for the world that my 
wife, who will be home to-night, should hear you. 
You can remain in this house and be your own 
mistress and have everything comfortable as if our 
relations to one another never ceased. I am sure, 
my dear wife, Elizabeth, will be as kind to you as to 
her own mother; my dear, you can wear her 
clothes, they will fit you. You- shall have your 
medicine, your stomach bitters, your barks, your 
syrups and your gruel, you so much loved. Won’t 
that be nice for you, my dear? You will have no 
care of the house, but enjoy all its comforts. Come, 
let us kiss now, and be good friends.” 

No, elder, my lips shall never again.be pollu- 
ted by touching your perjured lips.. I was your 
lawful wife, and now you get rid of me by a decis- 
ion of your Pharisaic conference, to take in a 
woman of no great character, because she has 
money ; that’s all she has more than me.” 

‘‘ Oh, you do me great injustice, Carolina. I 
could weep for your blindness, only that it would 
be unmanly. That conference at Chicago, that 
gave me the decision, was not all composed of 
Methodists. The leading religious denominations 
w^ere represented : The Baptists, the Universalists, 
First and Second Presbyterian Church, the Ply- 
mouth Church, and there was one Episcopal minis- 


192 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


ter present, Rev. Dr. Canticler. They all came to 
the decision that we ought to separate, you and me, 
from your state of health, and our mcornpatibility 
of dispositions. Hence I did not do this thing rashly, 
but only yielded to a high tribunal. I have done 
all with a good conscience, indeed.” 

The preceding conversation explains itself, 
and took place between Elder Bull, now a senator 
and his wife Carolina, from whom he got divorced 
to make room for the successful Miss Lizzy Skinner 
and her thousand dollars, and between whom and 
himself there was no incompatibility of dispositions. 
The Elder became, since his election, a leading 
politician, and from the sweeping majority with 
which he was returned, attracted • considerable 
attention among legislative rings and cliques, and 
as he had to spend most of his time at the capital, 
considered that he would cut a very odd figure 
there without a partner. Hence, he applied to a 
conference at Chicago of religious fanatics, who 
very complacently granted him a divorce, which he 
had very little trouble in getting confirmed in one 
of the State courts, after which, he immediately got 
married to the enterprising ex-medium, Lizzy Skin- 
ner. His poor wife saw herself thus in a short time 
reduced' to the condition of a servant in her own 
house, being compelled by her feeble state of health 
to fall into the unnatural condition of a subordinate 
to the concubine of her brutal husband. People 
who come here from the old country, imagine that 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


193 


one has to travel to the meridian of Constantinople, 
or Brigham Young’s elysium in the wilderness of 
Utah, to hear of such occurrences as we treat of in 
this chapter. But they soon find out that such 
cases as this are far from being of unusual occur- 
rence. We could point out half-a-dozen of such 
cases’ within an area of fifty miles. And this is 
called progress, that would be acceptable to all 
religious bodies, only if the obstinate Catholic 
Church was out of the way. Then there would be 
none to comment, condemn, reprobate or ridicule 
such cases as Elder Bull’s pleasant exchange of an 
old, sickly, incompatible woman, for one that, though 
she was not pretty, yet could dress well, and had 
besides five^ thousand dollars in five-twenty gold 
bonds. It shows great folly and retrogressiveness 
in the old Catholic Church, with the old Pope of 
Rome at its head, to stand out so many centuries 
without change against such progress as we see 
practised by all Evangelical churches, and which 
Luther originated three hundred years ago. 

“ As we have improvement in agricultural imple- 
ments, as reapers and mowing-machines, and in 
modes of travel, as steamboats and railroads, and 
in the tailor’s art, as sewing-machines, so we ought 
to have improvement in religion also,” said Elder 
Fribbler among a party of citizens who were assem- 
bled at the corner of Main street, in the town of 
Brighton, and spoke commenting on the conduct 
of Elder Bull. 


194 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


‘‘ That stands to reason, sure enough,” said 
Professor Hoskey, who, with his friend Mulroony, 
made a part of the crowd, together with McBeth, 
Broadhead, and a few others. 

“ Certainly,’' continued Elder Fribbler, encour- 
aged by what the Professor spoke, “ there is change 
and improvement in .all things, why not in religion, 
I ask?” 

“ I allow a part of what you say is true, Elder,” 
said McBeth; “we have evidence enough that 
there is change in what you call religion, for I 
believe it was Boussuet, a great French Bishop, 
who proved -that there were over five hundred dif- 
ferent creeds of Christianity, and since his day, 
about one hundred and twenty years ago, we have 
had about one hundred and fifty more changes in 
creeds. What I want to know is, if all these are 
right or not?” 

“ They may be all right, or at least the persons 
who believed those different creeds may think they 
were right, and as a man thinks, so he is,’’ answered 
the Elder. 

“ That I can’t come. Elder. If a man is wrong, 
thinking he is right will never make him right. 
You may think you are a learned and wise man, 
but you are not half so wise as Elder Bull, who 
has got elected Senator and got another wife as 
good as new, and five thousand dollars into the 
bargain, ha ! ha 1 ha ! ’’ 

“ I do not think the other part of the Elder’s 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


195 


statement holds good either, namely, that as 
almost all things change and improve, religion is 
improved by change also,” said the almost ubiquit- 
ous Mr. Smylie, the commercial traveller. “If all 
things change, why have we no change in the 
things that God made — the sun, the moon and 
stars. Now, there is no change I would better like 
than if we could have moonlight every night. 
Why don’t your Beechers, in your conventions, 
who make new creeds, alter what God ordained, 
for instance, in reference to marriage. Why don’t 
ye order the sun to shine for eighteen out of the 
twenty-four hours, and the moon to shine every 
night? This would be showing your power, and 
doing good.” 

“ Why, what silly questions you ask, stranger,’’ 
answered the Elder ; “ don’t you know that those 
objects were created by God, and that no man can 
alter or improve what God has made or created?’’ 

“ Yes, I am aware of that.. But is not religion 
the work of God’s right hand, also ; and what right 
has any man, or body of men, to annul, alter, or 
improve what God has created and perfected ? 
What right had that conference of hypocrites, 
assembled two weeks ago in Chicago, to give 
license to your presiding elder. Bull, to dismiss his 
old wife, and take a fresh one to his arms ? This 
is what I call a diabolical innovation on the Gospel 
of Christ, and an outrage against the moral order. 
In a word, it is infamous conduct all over.’’ 


196 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Are you sure they gave their consent to that 
scandalous proceeding?” asked McBeth. 

‘‘Why, sir, friend McBeth and gentlemen, I 
was present when, after a mock prayer to the 
Lord for light and counsel, the whole caboodle of 
them took their pens and signed a divorce, to 
enable the eider to get a second wife, as Luther 
and Melancthon signed the document permitting 
a sensual German prince to take in a second frau. 

I was present when the deed was done by that 
infamous conference.” 

“ Gentlemen, there is no use in talking,” said 
Mr. McBeth ; “ our Protestant churches are in a 
pitiable condition, and if a Reformation was ever 
needed, now is the time to begin the work. The 
conduct of this self-sanctified ex-elder is worthy 
the execration of every honest man. For years he 
imposed on the credulity of the people by pretend- 
ing to be a holy religious man. Now he -gets a 
political office, through the influence of an oath- 
bound secret society of religious hypocrites, whose 
creed is malice, and whose practice would be per- 
secution, if they dared. Next, he repudiates his 
poor faithful wife, and joins himself to a notorious 
impostor, with a view of getting hold of her ill- 
gotten booty. If you can point out to me any 
individual outside or inside the penitentiary, whose 
conduct is more infamously criminal than that of 
this man of God, then I will confess I know noth- 
ing. Look at that young man there,” he contin- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


197 


ued, pointing to where young Mulroony stood arm- 
in-arm with the “ Professor.” “ That old wretch, 
Bull, laid cunningly-contrived plots to entrap that 
young man in the net of his hypocritical sect. Be 
on your guard, young man, you are not yet out 
of danger. Keep your eyes and ears open. ‘ By 
their fruits ye shall know them.’ Do men gather 
grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles? No, nor 
can you learn truth, honesty, honor, nor virtue, 
not to speak of piety or religion, of that sect of 
which your countryman. Goldsmith, well wrote : 

“ * When Methodist preachers come round 
A-p reaching that drinking is sinful, 

I’ll wager the rascals a pound, 

They always preach best with a skinful.’ ” 

‘‘And this is the woman the elder has taken as 
a wife — the female whom they reported a couple 
of years ago was abducted ? ” 

“Yes, sir, the same,” answered McBeth. “It 
seems she was not abducted at all, but. abducted 
herself, and then advertised herself as a celebrated 
medium. Knowing all the people and their affairs, 
who were foolish enough to visit her den., she 
could, of course, tell many circumstances- regarding 
their lives and relations, and hence she passed as 
a famous fortune-teller. The whole country ran to 
consult her, and in a couple of years she amassed 
a considerable sum of money. She was at length 
detected through the penetration of the Catholic 


198 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


priest, who lives up in the Irish settlement, when 
lo ! instead of being sent to the penitentiary, as she 
deserved, she is admired as a woman of genius, 
and among a great crowd of suitors who coveted 
her money, she is married by the presiding elder, 
after having divorced his own lawful but sickly 
wife, on the plea of incompatibility of disposi- 
tions.” 

“ And this is the return he makes his constitu- 
ents for electing him to the office of senator ? ” 

Yes, this is the way the holy man edifies the 
Christian community. This is modern progress.” 

“ Oh, well, well, that is too bad. This is what 
I call progress with a vengeance. I do not know 
what they will do next, these religious men, and ^ 
call it Christianity, Reformation, and Progress ! ” 

’Tis hard telling ; but you may be sure the 
end is not yet.” 



CHAPTER XVII. 


FATHER JOHN AND AN INSTANCE OF HIS PASTORAL DUTIES. 

ATHER John, the pastor or parish priest of 
the Irish Catholic congregation, near the 
village of Brighton, in Minnesota, was a man 
as remarkable for his good looks and elegant 
manners as he was universally allowed to be for his 
good nature and kind, charitable disposition. He 
was what “American ladies'’ called “a very pretty 
gentleman, too handsome for a Catholic priest,” 
forgetting, no doubt, that God has .the first and 
best claims to all living beings, and that all who 
are chosen to serve Him must be perfect and with- 
out blemish. • Father John was a native of Ireland, 
and had received his preliminary education and 
virtuous training, as. well as his birth, in the old 
borough of Cashel, under the hallowed shadow of 
the venerable ruins of King Cormac’s sanctuary. 
Like many hundreds of his countrymen, he resigned 
his place in the Diocesan Seminary of Thurles, and 
his prospects of advancement in the ranks of the 



/ 


200 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


clergy of his native diocese, through a zeal to trim 
the “holy lamp of God’s sanctuary,” and to keep 
it from being extinguished among the thousands 
of the exiled children of Saint Patrick, in the 
Old World. 

Ireland was, for centuries, the school of the 
civilized world, but the storm came and desolated 
her colleges and universities, and her teachers 
perished in the ruins. But Ireland never ceased 
to be the most fertile nursery of missionaries and 
apostles. Even during the dark ages of her own 
literary famine, so to speak, her gifted children 
were in every nation engaged in the apostolic 
work of combating error or propagating the pure 
Gospel of Jesus Christ. 

In ancient times, France, Germany, Italy, Spain, 
Caledonia, and Britain were the scenes of the 
triumphs and success of the apostolic labors- of 
Irish missionaries. To-day, it is in the United 
States, Canadas, South America, the Australian 
continent and islands, as well as the East and 
West Indies, that we can find the Irish mission- 
aries engaged in the same , holy work as their fel- 
low countrymen, during twelve hundred years and 
more. 

What Saint Paul said to the Christians of his 
day, is literally* true of Ireland, namely, as “poor 
but enriching many.” 

^^Quceregio in terris Where is the nation 
under the sun of heaven (aye, even where the sun 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


201 


never shines the whole year around),, where is one 
nation to be found that is not indebted to that 
little isle in the ocean for some “ star” of Christian 
light, for some ^‘gem’’ of Christian virtue? And 
yet, there is not one among them all grateful 
enough to acknowledge its indebtedness to the 
‘‘ Island of the Saints” for w^hat they received. 
But ingratitude is the characteristic crime of these 
latter days — and we must restrain our indignant 
interrogatories for fear of losing the thread of our 
narrative. 

Father John, though an Irishman by birth, was 
an American priest, having completed his ecclesi- 
astical studies, and received ordination in a well- 
known seminary in Maryland. He was under the 
medium height, of very regular features, with the 
exception that he had a very prominent forehead, 
over dark eyebrows, and large gray eyes. To a 
casual observer, he would appear to be of a very 
refined and delicate constitution, but those who 
knew the fatigue and labors he could endure when 
obeying the calls of duty, were well aware that he 
was blessed with a system that could stand any 
hardship. He had all the vigor of a. robust Irish 
frame, overlaid, as it were, by the studied and 
assumed delicacy of a native American gentler 
man. 

He was a good classical scholar, a fluent and 
ready speaker, if not an accomplished orator. He 
had a sweet voice, either for song or sermon, and 


202 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


an impressive action and delivery of discourse, and 
to these natural gifts were added the useful, but 
not very profound, accomplishments acquired in 
the hurried curriculum of one of bur Catholic sem- 
inaries. 

Such was Father John. We won’t speak a 
word in praise of his piety, temperance, of which 
he was a leading advocate by example and advice, 
his humility, charity, and other virtues, for a man 
should not receive praise for these qualities, till 
after death, and our friend^ Father John, still lives. 

It happened a few days after the events re- 
corded in the two last chapters, that Father John 
was sitting in his study looking out on the- moun- 
tainous drifts of snow that were formed in all direc- 
tions from the action of a violent northwest wind 
that blew for twenty-four hours, about the last day 
in March. “ It would be a bad job,” he said to 
himself, “if a sick call came on this day, for it 
would be absolutely impossible to leave the house. 
I do not think I ever saw such drifts ; they reach 
up over the windows of the Church.” 

Just then he thought he saw, through the mist 
that filled the atmosphere, something dark, strug- 
gling. He looked again, after adjusting a pair of 
spectacles to see distant objects, and sure enough 
there was a brave man with a yoke of oxen, strug- 
gling hard to break his way through the drifts. 
By slow degrees the animals ploughed their way 
through the snow, till at last coming in front of 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 203 

the presbytery, Father John stuck out his head 
through the half-open door, and asked the man 
whcf guided the oxen, what he wanted, or what 
brought him out on such a day ? 

“A sick call, your reverence,” was. the reply. 

“ A sick call ? ” repeated the priest in astonish- 
ment. “ Surely no man in his senses would make 
up his mind to die on such a day as this.” 

“He is in his senses then, your reverence, thank 
God;, and he must see you before he dies.” 

“Who is he, and who are you?” 

“I am McMahon, don’t you know me? And 
the. dying man who requests your attendance is 
Mr. McBeth.” 

“What! Mr. McBeth, the merchant of Brigh- 
ton, you don’t mean ? ” 

“Yes, the same. He has got the diphtheria, 
bad. The doctors all give him up, and he begged 
of me to go for you, for God’s sake, and of course 
I started, though I am five hours coming the six 
miles. But no matter, if we can save a soul.” 

True enough, we must go. Can’t I take my 
pony ? ’’ 

“ No, your reverence, you must come with me, 
behind these cattle, for you could never reach the 
place with a cutter. We can go back quicker than 
I came ; I broke the road a little, and some men 
whom I acquainted of my errand turned out to 
break the road also, to hurry me.” 

“ Good for them. Come up Mac, and try to 


204 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


break the way for me to the church, to enable me 
to get the Holy Sacrament and the Holy Oils.” 

“ Yes, sir. I shall tramp on the snow before 
you, and then your reverence can walk in my 
tracks. It’s a very unnatural thing for to see a 
priest follow my footsteps. But strange things 
happen in a strange country like this, your rever- 
ence.” 

“ All right. I will follow you while you walk 
in the true way. • I am really glad, for your sake as 
well as my own, that you brought me this joyous 
message. I always thought poor McBeth would 
never die outside the saving fold of the Church.’’ 

“ Oh, I knew he was always well disposed to 
the Church, but I did not expect that with the crew 
he has around him, h^ would ever be permitted to 
enter the fold. They are hard cases.” 

‘‘ His family are opposed to his becoming a 
Catholic, are they ? ” 

“ Opposed is no name for it.' In fact, they are 
fit to be put into strait-jackets. He begged of 
them to send for me two days ago, in order to send 
me for you ; but no, they never let . a soul know 
what he wanted. It is only to-day when I called 
to see him, and while the family were at breakfast, 
that he whispered to me to make haste and go for 
you, that he had no time to live.” 

“ Oh, I hope God will keep him alive until I 
see him ! We must go to see him, or die in the at- 
tempt ! I will be ready in five minutes. You go 
in and warm while I am in the church.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


205 


The priest and his companion set out at the 
hour of twelve, noon, for McBeth’s house, which 
they did not reach till near five P.M., owing to the 
snow-drifts. 

Having arrived, the priest entered the house, 
which was filled with the relatives of the dying 
man and his wife, and the enemies of the priest 
and his ministrations. As the priest entered, he 
was received with gloomy silence ; not one in that 
crowd of religious men and women responded to 
his salutation of God save all here — good day ; ” 
not one to ask him (the priest) to sit down, to 
come near the stove, or to show him any sign of 
courtesy, no more than if he was a wild beast, 
instead of a polite and accomplished gentleman ! 
To the question, ‘‘ How is Mr. McBeth,” not a 
word was answered, only the frowns were more 
ferocious, and the grimaces more savage. At 
length McMahon came in, after having secured his 
oxen, and boldly invited the priest to the sick 
man’s room. As they were entering, the “old 
woman,” the sick man’s mother-in-law, made her 
grunting intelligible by saying, “ McMahon, this is 
all your doings. It is very unkind of you, it is! ” 
No, no,” answered Mac; “it is not unkind 
of me, I only did my duty. Do you think I would 
not do more for our dying friend ? He requested 
me to go for his reverence, and I went, and would 
go sixty miles, ay, a hundred instead of six, if 
needed. You mistake, madam, you do me wrong. 


2o6 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


But no matter, I can bear this, and more, so that 
my friend has his dying request/’ 

“ Don’t mind answering that old crone,” said 
the priest, “but take me at once to the sick man.” 

No sooner said than done. There was poor 
McBeth, almost in the agony of death, and Father 
John by his side. 

“ Oh, dear father, I am sO glad to see you,” 
said the patient. “ I was many years preparing to 
join the Catholic Church, but I put it off from one 
cause or another, till now, when I fear it may be 
too late !” 

“ No,, my dear sir, it’s never too late to be con- 
verted to God. He is infinitely merciful, and He 
never reject? those who sincerely seek him. Do 
you know the creed of the Catholic Church?” 

“Yes, I have often read it and studied all that 
is contained in the creed of Pius the IVth, and I 
have committed the contents of the short Catholic 
Catechism.” 

The priest then satisfied himself by a few lead- 
ing questions’ that McBeth was well informed as 
to the Catholic faith, but as he was baptized in 
the Methodist Episcopal Church (as it is called), he 
wished to administer conditional baptism, and 
also to hear his confession. He requested the 
bystanders to retire, including McMahon, but the 
wife of the sick man, and her daughter, a young 
lady of twenty years, refused to leave the room. 

“ My dear Marianne,” spoke McBeth, “ surely 


PM)FIT AND LOSS. 


207 


you would not persecute me at this, my death 
hour, by remaining in the room while I am speak- 
ing in private about affairs of conscience, to this 
servant of God? Surely you would not be so cruel 
as that, my dear wife ?” 

“ Oh,” she exclaimed in anger, “ it is such a 
disgrace for you to join the Catholics. I would 
not care if you could do it in private. But the 
ministers will all be so hard on us on account of 
your dying a Catholic ! ” 

‘‘A disgrace,” said the dying man, to join the 
oldest Church in the world? A disgrace to die in 
the creed of all our forefathers ! A disgrace to 
belong to that Church which contains a thousand 
times more members than your little, sect of yes- 
terday! A disgrace ta join the Church of Napo- 
leon, Charlemagne, Columbus' and the Marquis of 
Bute, to come down to our own times! No, the 
disgrace is not to belong to that Holy Church. 
God forgive you, Marianne, ‘to cause me to talk so 
much.” 

Then the priest. Father John, took up the 
talking, and asked the cruel wife if she believed in 
freedom of conscience ? if she would like to be 
deprived of the consolations of her religion when 
dying ? — and many other such arguments did he use 
before the virago gave in. She finally ‘‘caved,” 
and, in a flood of angry tears, quit the room — 
she and her daughter — ^whereupon the priest pro- 
ceeded with the services and reconciled McBeth to 


208 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the bosom of the Catholic Church. After about 
an hour he left the room, and joined the crowd in 
the kitchen, to some of whom he administered a 
well-deserved rebuke for their bigotry, inhospi- 
tality and barbarity, as illustrated in their conduct 
to himself, to the patient, and to his generous 
friend McMahon. The war was ended for the 
present, as regarded the Father John, for the hypo- 
crites trembled before his glance and rebuke ; but 
a second campaign was set on foot against McBeth, 
by inviting Elder Bull and his new wife, Elders 
Fribbler, Redtop, and others too numerous to 
mention, to lay siege to McBeth’s conscience 
again. He was an over-match for them all then, 
for he had that within him against which the 
gates of hell cannot prevail,” much less the small 
arms of all the preachers of Methodism. And 
when they came with their long frothy prayers, 
their drowsy sermons, and their counterfeit Bibles, 
McBeth thrust both his index fingers into his ears, 
and the loud voices of the preachers had no more 
effect on his calm soul than the braying of so 
many donkeys ! 

The priest left the house, accompanied by 
McMahon, and they retraced their way as well as 
they could in the darkness and through the snow- 
drifts towards the settlement. On the return, how- 
ever, they got nearly exhausted, men and animals, 
and had to stop for refreshments and to warm 
at Mr. Mulroony’s, which was midway between 
Brighton and the church. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


209 


On entering through the kitchen, which a roar- 
ing fire of dry oak logs warrried and lighted, his 
salutation of, “ God save all here ’’ disturbed the old 
matron, who w^as saying the rosary.” On rising 
from her knees, the old matron asked : 

“ In the name of God, Father John, is that your 
reverence, and what in the world brought you out 
on such a night as this ? ” 

“ I have been looking after my sheep. You 
know it is the duty of the shepherd to expose his 
life, and even lay it down, if needed, to bring back 
a wanderer to the fold.” 

Glory be to God, that’s true enough. Who is 
it, may I ask, your reverence has been to see this 
fearful night ? ” 

‘‘ Mr. McBeth has just been admitted by me 
to the communion of the saints. He is in danger 
of death ; you must pray for him.” 

“ Dear me, I am sorry to hear of his dangerous 
condition ; but glad, of course, that God’s grace 
has led him to diq. in the true fold.” 

“ Yes ; we must bless God for this mercy to the 
poor man, not forgetting what our Lord said, ‘ Other 
sheep I have, not of this fold, but they must hear 
my voice, and there shall be but one fold and one 
shepherdl ” 

Indeed, this is strange,” said Master Patrick. 

I always thought, for I heard all the people say, 
that McBeth was a Spiritualist.” 

So he is, a true Spiritualist, young man,’^ an- 


210 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


swered Father John, curtly, ‘‘ for he embraced the 
spiritual truth of the Church of God. But he was 
not a Spiritist or Spirit-rapper, by any means. This 
was a slander on him. You must not give much 
credit to what you ^always hear^ Men are apt, 
now-a-days, young man, to ridicule and slander 
those whom they dislike or envy. Perhaps there are 
other people who may remark ‘ we always heard 
Mr. Patrick Mulroony gave up going to the Church 
of his parents, and seeing him at camp-meetings^ 
sociables, and other disreputable places, may re- 
mark, they ‘ always heard ’ he had embraced some 
of the prevailing fashionable errors. 

“ Excuse me, young man, for talking thus. I 
do not mean to be personal, but I want you to 
believe very little of the gossip you hear, and to 
require evidence for everything before you credit it.” 

The young man felt abashed and made no reply, 
and Father John was at liberty to accept the invita- 
tion oflMadam Mulroony to a cup of hot tea and a 
large venison pastry pie which was placed before 
him on the broad kitchen-table. 

Having got warmed up, our reverend friend and 
his companion rose up again to encounter the vio- 
lence of the drifting snow, and it was not far from 
midnight when they arrived safe at the presbytery. 
Deo gratias. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


CONVERSATIONS OF A GRAVE NATURE. 


HE next day after his reconciliation to the 
Church of God, through the ministrations 
of Father John, McBeth died, and the rev- 
erend gentleman made preparations for his 
Christian burial, according to the Catholic ritual, 
at the earnest request of- the dying man. But his 
narrow-minded relatives, instigated by the shame- 
less bigotry of sectarian preachers, interfered., and 
the promise made to McBeth in his dying hour, to 
have his body laid in the consecrated earth of the 
Catholic cemetery, was violated disgracefully by 
the very parties who solemnly vowed to see it car- 
ried into execution ! 

The men whose ministrations he rejected at 
his death, as he had despised therh during many 
years of his life, determined to enjoy their triumph 
after his death, and as they failed to fetter his soul 
by the restrictions of their creeds, they made sure, 
at all hazards, of his body. 



212 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


‘‘The conduct of these men,’’ said Father John, 
“ reminds me of what I once read of a holy monk 
at the point of. death. He was dying in peace 
with God and man, after having been anointed 
like a brave* gladiator against the assaults of Satan. 
But there happened that a small piece of cloth 
was stitched to cover a hole on his cassock, which 
piece was ‘cabbaged’ by the tailor who stitched 
it on. A short time before the departure of the 
saint, the devil was seen, in the shape of a small 
black monkey, sticking on to the cassock and lick- 
ing the stolen patch of cloth, as a cat licks its own. 
young kitten. As the ‘ old boy’ could find noth- 
ing belonging to the dying man in body or soul 
that he could lay any claim to, he was obliged to 
let him die in peace, and commence to lick the 
piece of cloth, which was the only thing, belong- 
ing to the holy man that he could even approach. 
So, these preachers, not having power to hold the 
dying man’s soul in their erroneous grasp, held 
on to his body with the tenacity of demoniac 
baboons.” 

These remarks were rather severe, and the 
two other clergymen who came to participate with 
Father- John in the Requiem services, mildly 
rebuked his language. But Father John was 
greatly annoyed at the unchristian, if not inhuman, 
conduct of the preachers in regard to the dying 
request of McBeth, and there was just cause for 
his severity. And* worse than this happened. 

23 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


213 


Not only did the preachers pray and preach over 
the remains of one who renounced and anathema- 
tized the errors and contradicting tenets at his 
death, but, to take from the moral effect of the 
conversion of such an intelligent man as McBeth, 
they falsely declared, in their meeting-houses and 
over his. coffin, that the man was insane and uncon- 
scious of what he was doing when he begged to 
be received into the bosom of the Catholic Church ! 

Father John and his two reverend friends, — 
Father James and Father Saint Denys, — however, 
on the third day after his death, offered a solemn 
Requiem for the repose of the departed, and dis- 
charged all that the Rubrics enjoined, after Mass, 
over a cenotaph, as the body was not present. 

Father James was a fellow-student and of the 
same nationality with Father John, and they were 
most intimate friends, and about the same age, but 
Father Saint Denys was an aged priest, of venera- 
ble appearance, whose country was La Belle France, 
as his name points out, but whose labors in the 
Lord’s vineyard in the Northwest will never be 
known by man, nor appreciated till the day of 
Judgment. A man who, like Abraham, in the 
words' of Milton, may be said to have 

Left his home, his friends, his native soil — 

Not wandering poor, but trusting all his wealth 
With God, who called him to a land unknown,” 

of Minnesota. Long before cities, towns or villages 
were marked out in the city map. Father Saint 


214 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Denys might have said of Saint Paul City, and 
many other famous places in the Northwest, as 
Virgil did in the sixth book of the ^neid, in refer- 
ence to cities yet unfounded, 

ILzc tunc nomina erunf, nunc sine nomine terrceP 
“ Places by their names I call, though yet unnamed.” 

Two generations of rnen have been born, lived 
and died, with scarcely a memorial of them remain- 
ing, notwithstanding their ardent efforts after earth- 
ly fame, while this venerable man, who, in his 
youth, turned his back on all the glories of a 
renowned country, and all the attractive charms of 
a refined society, to hide himself in the wilderness, 
and to associate with savages, in order to gain 
them to Christ, still lives, leading the same self- 
denying life that he has for half a century at least, 
and daily adding . to his • merits and austerities. 
Like a grand old oak on the cultivated farm, which 
the greedy husbandman spares by reason of its 
venerable appearance, and the honors that surround 
its majestic head, so this venerable man has been 
spared to be a pattern and an example to the world 
in these degenerate and evil days ! 

The younger clergymen were all desirous of the 
society of this holy priest, and it was counted a 
distinguished privilege when they succeeded, as in 
the present instance, in getting him to favor them 
by his presence, even for one day. There was only 
one way of getting Father Saint Denys to quit his 
own proper field of duty, even for a day^ and that 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


215 


was, to show him that charity to his neighbor or 
God’s glory would be promoted thereby. Then, 
notwithstanding his infirmities and his love of holy 
retirement, he exhibited all the activity of his youth 
and vigor of his ripe manhood of thirty"^ years of 
age, when there was a prospect that a sinner would 
be converted or a soul was to be saved. Then 
Father Saint Denys* like St. Paul the Apostle, was 
all zeal, was all ‘^on fire.’’ Then the priest, who 
invited him to come to his parish, was sure of a 
favorable answer, and he rejoiced, for it always 
happened that wherever Father Saint Denys of- 
ficiated, he left some memento, either of his pious 
example or impressive preaching, that always effect- 
ed some remarkable good among the people. 

On the occasion to which we refer in this chap- 
ter,' after the conclusion of the services of the 
Requiem for the soul of the lamented McBeth, the 
three clergymen sat down to a frugal dinner, made 
on some fine trout which Father John, being a 
famous angler, had caught in a lake near his resi- 
dence, and as the conversation arose from late 
events, it was naturally of di grave turn. 

“ Well, I tell you the grave is a terrible thing 
to encounter,” began Father James. “ There was 
poor McBeth, who. was as well as any of us a week 
ago, but now he is six or eight feet down under 
the snow, in the frozen earth,. there to remain for- 
gotten after a few weeks, perhaps, for thousands of 
years to come ! ” 


2i6 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


• “Yes, true,” said Father Saint Denys. “The 
grave is terrible to human nature ; but it is only 
to those who are not prepared that it is really ter-- 
rible. It has no terrors for a man who serves God, 
and keeps a good conscience.” 

“ My friend, Father James,’’ said the priest of 
the Irish settlement, “ I am sorry to hear you 
speak so of the grave. I know the reason why 
you have such a horror of the peaceful grave. It is 
because you are such a handsome fellow. Do you 
know that I love the grave above all other places 
next to the tabernacle ? I tell you, when I ram- 
ble out in the evening among those tombstones ‘in 
the cemetery, I envy the happy thousands who 
rest in peace there:” 

“ Oh ! you are drawing on your fertile imagina- 
tion now. Father John.” 

“ No I am not. What do you say to those 
feelings of mine. Father Saint Denys?” 

“ Indeed, I am not astonished that one would 
feel as you do. There is nothing wrong for a man 
to desire to leave this world and be at rest with 
Christ. St. Paul desired ^ to be dissolved,’ so as to 
enjoy our Lord.” 

“ Certainly, that is not only not wrong, but 
even a holy desire,’’ resumed Father James. “ But 
for a man to wish \.o enjoy grave, that is another 
thing.” 

“ I say there is not only nothing wrong in the 
wish to lie in the grave,” rejoined Father John; 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


217 


“ but insist that it is a good thing to have such- a 
desire. But I leave this to the decision of our very- 
reverend friend here. I know this much, however, 
that I love the grave, as I said before, next to the 
sanctuary, and I envy the dead. It appears to me 
there is no place on the earth so true and pure as 
the grave.” 

“ Well, what a paradox,” interrupted Father 
James. “ How do you show that the grave, the 
abode of worms and maggots, is pure^ and that 
place to be true^ as you call it, which is Hair with- 
out and foul within,’ where there is nothing but 
corruption and the noisome dissolution of the 
flesh of man ?” 

“Well, first, the grave is irUe, for it is just the 
size of the body, six feet deep by two wide, about 
seven feet long. A nice cell, neither too small 
nor too large. See what falsehood and hypocrisy 
are exhibited in building palaces, mansions and 
houses! If you were the only inhabitant in an 
island, and to have all the materials ready at hand 
for a palace, would you erect one, or only a shanty 
not much larger than a grave?” 

“ Oh, that’s an exceptional case. That’s no 
argument in favor of your paradox.” 

“ Don’t interrupt me. Father James. l am not 
done yet with showing the beauties of the grave. 
When you are in the grave you do not fear the 
sheriff.” 

“ I don’t know that. In. England, they used 


2I8 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


to* arrest the bodies of dead men, and keep them 
imprisoned for debt, for weeks and months.” 

“We don’t speak of those things that are past 
now. Let me finish what I have got to say in 
praise of the grave, and then you may talk. In 
the grave you hear no scandals, you listen to no 
blasphemies or profane words. You suffer no pain 
or ache. You have no devilish temptations. 
There is no pride, no aristocracy, no hunger, thirst 
or nakedness. You sleep calmly and peacefully^ 
and where ? On your mother’s breast, the Earth, 
which, when the sun and air, and rains, and 
storms, and men, and women, and debtors, and 
creditors, and liars, and detractors — all, all like so 
many voracious hounds — hunt you, sicken you, 
strike you, harass you, plague, persecute and kill 
you, with disease, war, famine, lightning or accident ; 
when all nature casts you off, the earth takes you 
back to her comforting bosom ; and there you lie 
at ease till the last trumpet. Oh, what a grand 
illustration of Divine charity.” 

“ And what becomes of you in the grave ? ” 


“ How still and peaceful Is the grave, 
Where, life’s vain tumults past, 

The appointed house, by Heaven’s decree. 
Receives us all at last. 

The wicked, there from troubling cease. 
Their passions rage no more. 

And there the weary pilgrim rests, 

From all the toils he bore. 


219 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 

** There rest the. prisoners now released. 

From slavery’s sad abode. 

No more they hear the oppressor’s voice, 

Or dread the tyrant’s rod. 

There servants, masters, small and great, 

Partake the same repose. 

And there in peace the ashes mix, 

Of those who once were foes.” 

Why, you are purified, cleansed and clarified, 
so as, perhaps, to prepare you again to join your 
old companion, the soul, which quit your tenement 
in disgust, likely, so many years or centuries ago. 
There can be no doubt that the grave exerts a 
great influence on the elementary particles of the 
body. The earth draws back from it all its corrupt 
humors and elements of decay, the sulphur, the 
phosphorus, the calcium, the iron, and the many 
other chemical compositions that go to make up 
the body ; but those minerals are not destroyed 
or lost. No, no ; the ancients believed in transmi- 
gration of souls, but they were not far wrong. If 
it was the transmigration of bodies they meant, 
they were right. Our bodies are the parts of us 
that transmigrate and return to their ultimate 
principles only, perhaps, and most likely to be 
rendered fit to join the soul at the final restoration 
of mankind. And when you recollect that not 
only does every man live by God’s omnipotent 
creative power, but that each of us lives at the 
very time we do live, and no other, by divine 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


220 

ordination. It cannot be wrong to think that some 
are in the grave for thousands, some for hundreds, 
and some will be tenants thereof for a few years 
only, to fulfil some important design of Providence. 
Hence the Church consecrates the grave, sprin- 
kles it with holy water, perfumes it with incense, 
and utters her most solemn benedictions over that 
narrow house of her dead children. Who does not 
desire to be there ? 

“ In old and Eastern lands they had their graves 
in the churches, in the vaults, and where that could 
not be, there was devoted to the dead the church- 
yard, called ‘ God’s acre,’ so sacred was the grave 
held in the old Christian tradition of the Catholic 
nations. Then, the living remembered the dead 
and held communion with them by praying over 
their graves, and offering their suffrages for their 
souls. Now, municipal law has changed all these 
things. The grave is now allowed only to be open- 
ed in some out-of-the-way country plot of ground, 
that is counted good for nothing else, and hence, 
the grave is a horror to most people, as, I am sorry 
it seems to be to you, my friend, Father James ! ” 

“ Oh, no, I did not mean it in the sense that you 
do,” responded the latter. “ I did not speak of the 
grave in the religious sense, as you view it. I only 
meant that the grave, as the emblem of dissolution 
and decay, was horrid, as contradistinguished to 
life. I allow, in a supernatural sense, and to the 
eye of faith, the grave is a peaceful, sacred place. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


221 


But in the sense of a charnel house, as the remorse- 
less devourer of all that is fair, estimable and lova- 
ble in life, the grave is a horrible catastrophe, 
repulsive to our sensibilities.” 

“ Gentlemen,” interposed Father Saint Denys, 
“ I think ye are both right. Death or the grave, 
as a temporal evil, is a terrible destiny or end of 
a joyous happy life. But viewed in a supernatural 
light, and in the hope of a happy resurrection, we 
may say with Saint Paul, ‘ O grave, where is thy 
victory ? O death, where is thy sting ? ’ I must 
say, however, that you. Father John, have taken, 
to me, a very new view of the subject. It never 
occurred to me that the body might be purified in 
the grave, in contact with its kindred earth, as the 
soul, undoubtedly, is purified in its dwelling-place, 
previous to its admission to the Beatific vision! ” 
Gentlemen, I am always deeply and sensibly 
affected at two of my official services,” resumed 
Father John. “ The one is, when I administer the 
last Sacrament to a dying Christian. I tremble 
and weep, lest I may be wanting in the proper 
dispositions to administer them rightly, and I may 
become answerable for the dying man’s demerits. 
And again, when I am repeating those awful words, 

* Libera mi Domine in die 
Ilia tremenda, qtiando eoeli 
Movendi sunt et terrcel 

* Deliver me, O Lord, in that dreadful day,' etc. 
The last man I buried, honest Michael Mul- 


222 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


roony, -looked so calm in death that I imagined he 
heard every word I read, and had power to tell 
everything that passed in my mind. I could hardly 
proceed with the service through emotion.’’ 

By-the-by, Father John,” asked the very 
Rev. missionary, “ I am glad you m-entioned his 
name. I am told that his son has left the Church; 
Is there any truth in the report?” 

“ I do not think he has renounced his religion 
so far as to attach himself to any of those sectarian 
churches ; but the young scamp is no doubt going 
astray. He has already improved his name by call- 
ing himself “ Paran M. Ronay^'* instead of the 
common name of Pat Mulroony. H-e has given 
up going to the church and the sacraments, 
and frequents all the ‘ sociables,’ ‘ singing-schools,’ 
^spelling-schools,’ and all other night assemblages.” 

“ Dear sir, I am sorry to hear this of him. It 
must be very afflicting to his mother and brothers 
and sisters.” 

“ The poor old lady is almost heartbroken from 
the way her son carries on. The fear is now, not 
that he will change his religion, for I don’t think 
he has much of that article to barter ; but I. am 
credibly informed that the yqung scamp is going 
to take a rib, as they call it,” 

“ What, going to get married ? ” 

Yes; there is a cunning dame at the school, 
or academy, as they style it, who has set her cap 
for him, and as there are a great many riyals for 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


223 


her hand, this young fellow is determined that he 
shall carry off the prize from the ring of young lads 
who contend for her.’’ 

“ And she not of the Catholic Church either, 
perhaps?’’ 

“No, she .professes to be a Methodist.* But, in 
my oginion, she would be a Turk or a Hindoo, if 
she could get a nice young man for a husband.” 

“Did you warn him of his danger. Father 
John?” 

“Yes sir, frequently. But he is so conceited 
and impudent, that I have made up my mind never 
again to speak on the subject to him.” 

“ Too bad, entirely too bad ! May God com- 
fort his poor mother! ” 




CHAPTER XIX. 

FATHER JOHN AT THE ACADEMY. 

f HE priest of the Irish settlement had a sick 
call some fifty miles and more on the Wis- 
consin side of the river, to a man who got 
injured lumbering in the “ Big Woods,” and 
it was so late when he returned that he was not 
able to reach home, but had to put up for the 
night at the hotel of Mr. Broadhead, in Brighton. 
His black Canadian pony, ‘‘ Billy,” had given out 
through exhaustion, and he was very much fatigued 
himself. Hence, it was near nine o’clock next 
morning before Father John woke up. It was a 
beautiful summer day ; the air calm, the sun’s rays 
falling on the plain without the intervention of 
a cloud ; vegetation luxuriant and bursting into 
maturity. All was silent and still. Not a note of 
a bird from the adjacent oak groves, not a murmur 
of a stream, not the neighing of a horse, the lowing 
of kine, whistle of a steam-engine, or chirping of 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


2?5 

an insect, interrupted the tranquillity of this splen- 
did morning. The poor man, Father John, felt his 
limbs sore, and suffered from pains in his knee 
joints,, from having to sit so many hours crippled 
up in a buggy, expressly made of small capacity in 
order to secure strength sufficient to stand the rug- 
ged roads over which he had to travel in attending 
to numerous calls of his parishioners in the remoter 
parts of his mission. 

During his half hour’s morning meditation, 
which he never omitted, at home or abroad, in 
hotel, steamboat, farmer’s house, or railroad shanty, 
the holy calm that reigned in all directions served 
to elevate his mind and fill his heart with love, 
gratitude and gladness. He forgot his pains, or 
rejoiced that he was rendered worthy to suffer in 
the discharge of his duty, and from the calm of 
earth, perceptible to his senses, his soul was lifted 
up and transported to the ecstatic calm and tran- 
quillity of Heaven.. 

Rising from his kneeling posture by his bedside, 
the sound of drums and instrumental music saluted 
his ear. He looked through the front window, and 
saw a procession,, with flags, boughs, and little ban- 
ners and mottoes, all mounted on ten or twelve 
wagons, cr-ewded with young men and young 
ladies, the former wearing, rosettes and ribbons, 
and the latter dressed in white, and the entire body 
proceeding at a slow pace towards the academy. 
They were the pupils of the academy, accompanied 


226 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


by their teachers and parents or guardians, about 
to hold “commencement” .exercises, or prize ex- 
aminations, before leaving for home during the 
summer vacation. 

Father John could, and did, read many of the 
mottoes, for the procession halted a few minutes 
before the hotel. Soihe of the mottoes, he noticed, 
were blasphemous, some profane, and most of them 
in bad taste. For instance, some of the most prom- 
inent among them read thus : “ Jesus Christ is our 
captain, and Elder Bull our lieutenant under him.” 
“ The Bible our religion, the Constitution our 
Creed.” “Free thoughts, free schools, free relU 
gion.” 

“ ’Tis bad taste in the authors of these elegant 
sentiments that they did not add ‘ free love,’ to 
make the sentence musical,” said Father John to 
the hotel-keeper, who came into his room to call 
him down to breakfast, and to inform him, also, 
that several of the citizens who heard his reverence 
preach once or twice, were very anxious that he. 
Father John, should be present at the exercises to- 
day, and wished him to make some remarks to en- 
courage or enlighten the pupils. 

“ I hope you will come down to the academy 
after breakfast. Father John,” said Mr. Broadhead; 
“ all our citizens want you there, and the vice-pres- 
ident, indeed the principal man there, Mr. Squires, 
wishes very much that you should be present, and 
say something.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


227 


My dear friend/' answered Father John, 
what business would I have among such a bigoted 
set? Don’t you know all the preachers will be 
there, including holy Elder Bull, and his wife num- 
ber two, and Fribbler and the rest of the shallow- 
pated fellows. They would insult me or my religion 
if I were to go there, and I might be provoked to 
say something that would not be very agreeable to 
them. Therefore it is best for me to keep away from 
the academy.” 

“Well now. Father John, you need not fear any 
such thing will happen as you apprehend. I am 
one of the board of trustees of the academy, and 
will guarantee that there won’t be a single word 
said to hurt your feelings, or if there should, the 
man that dares to do so will be rebuked severely, 
and you shall have ample opportunity to vindicate 
yourself and your Church.” 

“ I am very much averse to intrude myself 
among those men. Did you notice the mottoes 
they carry on their banners, — so odd, not to call 
them blasphemous?” 

“ Yes, I did. But, though these are in bad taste, 
I allow, we are not responsible for them. Those 
flags and mottoes are the work of those half-crazed 
women who hang around this academy, but whom 
we shall soon get rid of. Come down, Father John, 
I beg it as a favor to myself and Mrs. Broadhead, 
who says she won’t go down unless you are there. 
Besides, there are some of your people there, and 


228 


PROFIT AAW LOSS. 


the principal student who I presume will carry off 
all the prizes is that young man, Ronay, whose 
father died last winter. There are also a few other 
Catholic pupils there whom you ought to look 
after.” 

Well then, I will go, relying on your promise 
that I won’t be insulted. • If there are some of my 
people there, sure . enough, I ought to look after 
them. That is my duty. I would not go a step 
to look after this young man you call ‘ Ronay,’ but 
whose real name is Mulroony, for he is a conceited 
fop ; but, as I understand there are a few others, 
not so far advanced as he, in the academy, I must 
hear and see how they progress. So I shall go 
after breakfast.” 

“I thank you. Father John ; I will go and tell 
my wife, who will be very happy to see you there, ' 
and happier still if she can hear you say something 
that will open the eyes of these people, who look 
on themselves as the elect. My wife is a Southern 
woman, and having been educated in a Catholic 
nunnery, knows a good deal of that church, and 
feels very indignant when she hears so much that 
is absurd and false said against Catholics, by these 
uneducated men whom we have as religious guides . 
in this part of the country.” 

The academic halls were full almost to suffo- 
cation when Father John arrived, and there was a 
flutter when he was seen to enter, accompanied by 
Mr. Broadhead and one or two more of the citizens. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


229 


The exercises were partly over when they ascended 
the platform stage, which was reserved for the 
examiners and invited guests. Father John got a 
seat on a very prominent part of the stage, and his 
entrance caused an interruption of a few moments. 
The students had their attention riveted on the 
priest, and there was a titter among the young 
ladies, so that the orator who was expatiating on 
the glories of “ our free schools,” who was no other 
than young Mulroony, became suddenly distracted 
and very near got stuck in his sophornorical efforts 
in praise of the common schools. Young Mulroony, 
however, rallied under the interruption, and con- 
cluded his peroration amid salvos of repeated and 
loud applause. 

The next young speaker, Elder Bull’s son, had 
‘‘ The Bible, the whole Bible, and nothing but the 
Bible,” for his subject, but, being of a delicate 
constitution and weak lungs, he failed to excite 
either applause or enthusiasm, notwithstanding 
that his father, who probably composed his dis- 
course, invited the crowd to approbation, by 
repeated clapping of his hands, and stamping on 
the floor. All would not do — either the subject or 
the orator did not take with the audience; and 
hence poor “ Spike” retired in silence among his 
obscure companions in the hall. 

“ The character of Washington” was the theme 
of the next speaker — a young man named Smith, 
and the name of the Father of his country, if not 


230 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the ability of the speaker, elicited the usual 
amount of “ hurrahs.” 

But the most elegant and elaborate piece de- 
livered was that of Miss Lydia Squires, a relative 
of the male principal of the institution, who was a 
very interesting young lady, and spoke the- eulogy 
on the character of Christopher Columbus, in a 
very pleasing manner, and well-written discourse. 
After the candidates for honors and premiums had 
all concluded, and the clerical spouters had deliv- 
ered themselves of the usual rant in praise of relig- 
ious liberty, the Bible, free schools, and free 
thoughts. Father John was called on by Mr. Squires 
to deliver any remarks that might to him seem 
appropriate on that auspicious occasion. 

Father John stood up, and, after the very warm 
greeting with which he was received ceased, said 
he was glad that he was present to witness the 
very respectable proficiency displayed by most 
of those whom he had listened to with so much 
satisfaction. He disliked particularizing any of the 
able pieces he heard delivered, but there was one 
among them all to which he could not help referring, 
as most appropriate as a theme among the young 
aspirants for academic honors, namely, the character 
of Christopher Columbus. The character of that 
great man was one which would ever stand out in 
bold relief, among Christian heroes, as the most 
prominent and the most worthy of imitation by 
all aspirants to the honors and rewards of well- 
8 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


231 


earned and unsullied fame. “ The theme was well 
chosen, and the style in which it was composed, 
elevated , and elegant, and the manner of its 
delivery refined and highly creditable to the young 
lady from whose fair lips it flowed so smoothly. 
But, gentlemen, there was something wanting, 
something left out in that elegant composition of 
Miss Squires, which, had it been inserted, instead 
of left out (no fault of hers) in her chaste dis- 
course, would have made it of thrilling interest, 

and sublime in effect on the hearers. Columbus 

\ 

has been beautifully depicted before our eyes as a 
mariner, a soldier, a patriot, a husband, a father, 
a governor, a hero ; but not a word said of him as 
a Christian,, a Catholic, a Religions,, or a missionary. 
Nay, do I not perceive an incredulous smile on the 
faces of our young friends _here, when I . supply 
these omitted titles to his honor, certain that they 
have gone through all their studies, read all thef 
histories put in their hands, without once suspect- 
ing that Christopher Columbus, the discoverer of 
America, the .new world, was a pious Catholic ; 
that all, or most part, of this new world was trav- 
ersed by the busy feet of missionaries of the Cath- 
olic Church, in their eager search to gain souls to 
Christ, about a century before any of the now 
numerous Protestant sects set their feet on the 
virgin soil of the new world ? 

'' Nay, more, does not undoubted historical truth 
teach, and why should it be kept back from the 


232 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


minds of your children, that the discovery of the 
New World was made under the inspirations and 
auspices of that Catholic Church which you are 
often told nowadays is the enemy of progress. 

Yes, there can be no doubt of it, that it was 
the abbot of the Franciscan convent of La Rabida, 
that inspired, encouraged, aided and urged Colum- 
bus to. persevere in his resolution to discover the 
globe, and for this only reason that he, the abbot, 
conceived the hope that souls were to be gained to 
Christ by this enterprise. And next to the Fran- 
ciscan abbot, Jeran, Perez De Marchina was the 
abbot of the Dominican Convent of Salamanca, 
Columbus’ patron and assistant, in hope that the 
kingdom of Christ would be enlarged thereby. 
And again, it was the Papal Nuncio Santangel who 
backed Columbus, till finally Pope Innocent the 
VIII., John De Cibo, gave his encouragement and 
benediction to the bold designs of the Genoese 
navigator. Finally, Columbus himself states in his 
journal, December 6, 1492, that he undertook the 
hazards of the discovery with a view of acquiring 
means to be able to redeem the tomb of Christ 
from the power of the Saracens, and to render the 
Holy See independent in a temporal point of view. 
And in fine, when Isabella, the Catholic, the glori- 
ous sovereign of Spain, after having driven the 
Saracens from their last stronghold of the Alham- 
bra, was so reduced in finances, that she had to 
decline the magnificent propositions of Columbus, 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


233 


and when he was on his way to France, to lay his 
proposals before the king of that nation, it was the 
hope of the merit she would gain in the salvation 
of souls, more attractive than her glories in having 
expelled the Moors, that induced her, at the 
instance of the Abbot of La Rabida, to recall 
Columbus, and to offer to sell her jewels, rather 
than miss the merit of being the instrument in the 
spread of the Catholic faith. If there be any 
country in the world that ought to be called a 
Catholic Country^ it is America ; for it was dis- 
covered by not only a Catholic admiral and sailors, 
but the inspiration and design of the discovery 
was a pious ‘Catholic enterprise, having for its end 
the spread and glory of the Catholic Church. In 
that sense the country is Catholic, whatever the 
people may be. Why is it, gentlemen, I ask, that 
these facts are ignored ? Is it favorable to the 
development of the minds of your children to hide 
off the truth and plant error and falsehood therein ? 
Let the whole truth be told, if anything is taught. 
Let Hume, and Gibbon, and Macaulay, as well as 
Wilson, and Guyot, and other smaller suppressors 
of truth and perpetrators of lies, be banished from 
our schools, and then we shall know the whole 
truth, and bigotry and sects will cease, and charity 
and benevolence will be spread among mankind, - 
or at least that portion of the human race that 
inhabit this grand continent, discovered, I may 
say, by the Catholic Church, and destined to wit- 


234 


• PROFIT AND LOSS,, 


ness the most splendid development of all the 
acquirements of civilization, properly so called.’’ 

After the address of Father John, of which the 
foregoing is only a brief report, one of the elders, a 
Rev. Mr. Gully, remarked, “that what the reverend 
priest had stated was new to himself, and, he pre- 
sumed, to all present ; that if these were genuine 
facts which Father John had introduced, it was 
strange that our American- or English histories 
were silent on these supposed facts ; that, as far 
as he himself was concerned, he desired all to know 
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
truth.” 

Father John rejoined by allowing that the facts 
adduced by him were probably strange to the Rev. 
elder, whose reading of history did not extend be- 
yond English authors ; but they were no less true 
on that account. He acknowledged that English 
and Protestant historians were silent on these im- 
portant points. But there was a reason for their 
silence. These historians knew very well that if 
their histories proved anything favorable to the 
Catholic Church, their volumes \^uld not sell. 
Such was the prejudice of the Protestant mind, and 
its horror of Popery, .at the’ date of the writing of 
these histories, that to have adduced any evidence 
honorable to the Church of Rome, would consign 
their volumes forever to oblivion. But now, when 
the public mind is comparatively unprejudiced, it is 
disgraceful to leave the people in ignorance of the 
truth of history. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


235 


These remarks of Father John were warmly- 
received and lustily cheered, and he retired amidst 
the plaudits of all except the preachers, who did not 
like that any present should seem for a moment to 
regard the Catholic Church otherwise than as their 
bigotry had depicted that venerable institution. 





CHAPTER XX. 

MICKEY BOCAGH AND HIS WAY OF CONDUCTING AN ARGU- 
MENT. 

ICKEY BOCAGH was a man who might be 
called a representative, or, at least, a speci- 
men, of a certain numerous class of laborers 
known as “ river men,’’ in the West and 
Northwestern part of the country; the same 
people were called navvies ’’ in the East. The 
majority of the river-men were natives of this 
country, while a minority of them, respectable in 
number, were old country ” born, but so disci- 
plined and accomplished in the accent and slang of 
the Yankees as to pass for natives of the soil. 
Mickey Bocagh belonged to this latter section of 
sovereign citizens. He was no more than ten years 
out of the “ ould sod,” as he called his native land 
when speaking among his countrymen, but yet, so 
perfect was his nasal twang when on the steamboat 
or the ‘‘ drive,’’ that the captains and overseers 
always mistook him for a full-blooded “ Hoosier,” 
or “ Sucker,’’ instead of an Irishman. 



PROFIT AND loss. 


237 


Although Mickey was lame, or rather halt from an 
anchylosis ofthe right knee joint, caused by a thrust 
of a policeman’s bayonet at a Fenian skirmish in Ire- 
land, he was, notwithstanding, a very active laborer, 
of great strength and remarkable endurance. He 
worked most of his time on the rivers of the West 
and South, theMississippi, the Missouri, Ohio, and 
St. Croix, and always obtained the highest wages, 
for though he was of a rough exterior and of a very 
cross temper, as “ugly as a wild cat,’’ as the captain 
described him, yet he could do the work of three 
ordinary men, and was besides a reliable hand and 
strictly temperate, as far as drink was concerned. 
But, with, the possession of these and a few other 
virtues, such as attachment to the disciplinary regr 
ulations of his religion regarding abstinence and 
fasts, and affection for his aged mother, Mickey was 
also cursed by a most ungovernable temper, was 
gifted with a tongue of extraordinary eloquence in 
vituperation and profaneness, and wielded a fist 
the blow of which was equal to a stroke of a ham- 
mer. Many an insulting Norwegian and insolent 
negro have lived to rue the hour that they contra- 
dicted the statements or disregarded the stern 
orders of Mickey Bocagh while unloading a wood- 
scow on the Mississippi, or landing freight on the 
slippery banks of the great father of waters. His 
prowess in this line soon made him the talk and 
the terror of river-men from New Orleans to St. Paul, 
and from Pittsburgh to Little Rock. 


238 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


He got extra wages and was sure of employment 
— especially under the severest captains, who were 
notorious for their cruelty or tyrannical disposition, 
not because he was of a cruel or sanguinary tem- 
per, but from the fact that they knew that Mickey^ 
by example, as well as by words, was sure to get 
all the work that was in them, out of the hands. 

Mickey enjoyed another marked distinction 
also on the river. He could travel free on all the 
great rivers of the West and South, from the Gulf 
of Mexico to St. Anthony’s Falls, and the Alle- 
ghany to Omaha. He paid no fare, but simply 
gave his name, Mickey Bocagh,’’ and that was 
generally Satisfactory. But where he chanced to 
be unknown to a captain or clerk, who was but a 
novice at the rules of the river, and who had not 
heard of Mickey, he soon made himself known by 
his resistance to any attempts to be put ashore, 
which brought all the help of the boat to where he 
stood at bay, and in that case, there was sure to be 
some of the posse of the captain who knew Mickey, 
and soon convinced him that it was useless to put 
him off. 

“ Sure he was no other,” they said, “ than the 
famous Mickey Bocagh, who was never yet put off 
a boat, and who- always carried a free pass at the 
ends of his steel knuckles.” 

Explanations would then ensue, relations of 
the river hero’s exploits would follow, until all the 
crowd, originally gathered to witness Mickey’s 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


239 


/ 

expulsion from the boat, would be convulsed with 
laughter, and all would agree, including the cap- 
tain, that he “ was a dogoned clever fellow,” and 
that he “ deserved to ride free on every boat.” 

Thus, at once, would public opinion be reversed, 
and the man who was threatened to be put on the 
shore of a desert islarid in the Mississippi, as an 
impostor and a desperate character, by the very 
daringness of his conduct, made himself a hero 
and a man of note and importance. Then every- 
body wanted to treat Mickey Bocagh, and shake 
hands with him. The crowd which a few minutes 
before were ready to fling him overboard, or to 
“lynch” him, or sheath their knives in his flesh, 
now formed themselves in a circle around him, to 
listen to recitals of his desperate encounters with 
gamblers and highwaymen, or his successful resist- 
ance to the efforts of the entire crew of a steam- 
boat to put him ashore. 

“ Of such stuff is the hero made” frequently in 
our western country, and so rude the paths to pop- 
ularity. 

But Mickey’s heroic achievements were -not 
always displayed on the rivers, or on board steam- 
boats or rafts. The neighbors at home, near his 
mother’s house, at the border of “ Coon Grove,” 
were frequently made to feel that Mickey could be 
brave on land as well as on water, as the following 
instance will illustrate : 

Generally before the opening of navigation in 


240 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the spring, especially when the season was late 
and help scarce, Mickey hired out with some of his 
neighbors for a month or two, till all the grain was 
sowed. He was employed by young Mulroony 
soon after his father’s death, and by his well-known 
energy contributed not a little to the early put- 
ting in of all his wheat, so that he anticipated the 
sudden return- of snow and cold which set in about 
the 25th of April, and thus his crops were near a 
month ahead of all his neighbors. He continued 
in the same employment during the whole summer 
owing to the indisposition of his aged mother, 
whom he visited every evening after his work. 

Young Mulroony having his work well advanced 
in the summer, before harvest set in, sent his man, 
Mickey, to work for one Mr. Muggins, a rich 
neighboring farmer to whom he was indebted for 
ploughing. Mickey was employed in fencing 
his land for Mr. Muggins, who was a very relig- 
ious man in his own estimation, and who, no 
doubt, expected if he did not convert Mickey to his 
own church, the Universalist, he at least would 
make an impression on him favorable to his way of 
thinking. Hence, at meals, or rather before them, 
he. Muggins, delivered himself of very long prayers^ 
so long that the dinner generally got cold before 
he concluded. 

Mickey showed no signs of impatience for a 
meal or two at these protracted orations, but at 
last he commenced to eat without paying any atten- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


241 


tion to the rambling prayers of the pious farmer. 
The latter appeared very much displeased, and, as 
long as his prayers seemed to have no effect on the 
hasty temper of Mickey, thought he would' try 
what virtue there was in polemics. . 

“ My friend,” he said, I forget your name, or 
rather I did not ask Mr. Ronay what I should call 
you.’’ 

My name is Mickey Bocagh, Mr. Muggins, at 
your service,” answered the latter. ‘‘ I suppose it 
makes no difference what my name is, if I work for 
you a man’s share. That’s what I came to you 
for, sent by Mr. Mulroony, my present employer.’’ 

Oh, yes. Work is very good in its place, but 
a knowledge of the Bible is better. I suppose you 
have never studied the Bible much, friend Mickey ? ’’ 

•‘‘You are wrong to suppose that, Mr. Muggins. 
I guess I know as much of the Bible, perhaps, as 
yourself, though I do not parade my knowledge.” 

“ Oh, indeed ! I judged if you had read the 
Holy Book, that you would have waited till I 
finished my asking a blessing before you began to 
eat.” 

“ There you are out again. For does not the 
Bible tell us there were men like yourself; in the 
time of our Saviour, who made long prayers and 
turned up the whites of their eyes, and yet were 
condemned as hypocrites by our Lord ? I thought 
of the Pharisees, when I saw you with yoiir eyes 
up and heard your prayer, reminding the Lord of 


242 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

what a holy man you were, while the food, God’s 
gift to us, was spoiling before you. If that’s all 
you know of the Bible, you should go to school 
and learn more. I can beat that myself.” 

“We must ask a blessing before partaking of 
the good things of the Lord,” rejoined the farmer. 

“ So we must, and I always do make the sign 
of the cross and ask God to bless these gifts com- 
ing from His bounty. But you make a sermon, 
and a poor one at that, and while you are ‘ gassing,’ 
the victuals are being spoiled under your nose, 
and unfit to be eaten.” 

“ I am sorry to hear you talk so, friend stranger. 
But I make allowance for your education, and shall 
pray for you to the Lord bo give you a change of 
heart.’’ . 

“Spare yourself the trouble, Mr. Muggins. I 
know my duty, sir, as well as you do yours, and I 
keep my religious views to myself, not like you, 
who try to make-believe that you are a great 
pillar of your church. I tell you I came here to 
work and not to learn anything in religion,, or any- 
thing else from the like of you^ an ignorant man 
like myself.” 

These conversations went on for two or three 
days — the farmer sparring with the sailor or river 
man on the subjects of Religion, conversion, the 
Bible, and other topics that ought to be too sacred 
to be ihade a table-talk of. 

Mickey’s temper he felt to be getting up to the 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


243 


temperature that generally governed him on board 
the steamboats, and hence he tried to avoid ex- 
tremes by staying away from the table till after 
grace was skid ; by keeping silent, or by making a 
great clatter with his knife and fork, in order that 
he might' not hear the provoking religious nonsense 
of the farmer. It was no use, however. The far- 
mer, Muggins, was overflowing with proselytizing 
zeal, and out it must come, whether Mickey liked 
it or not. He began to talk of the Catholics — how 
absurd was their creed ; how fast it was declin- 
ing in this free country. 

“I cannot see it in that light,’’ answered Mick-, 
ey, after a long silence. ‘‘ I have travelled as much 
of this country as any o.ther man of my age — east, 
west, north and south, and on every side I see evi- 
dences of the progress of the Catholic Church. I 
see churches rise, colleges erected, convents found- 
ed, schools built, bishops multiplying, and converts 
coming in by the hundreds and thousands. These 
are queer signs of decline.” 

All this is only for a while. Soon all this will 
vanish like a mist, stranger.’’ 

“ Thank God, you are no prophet. It may van- 
ish, but who can tell? Not you, surely, nor the 
like of you, who can’t tell what sort of weather 
you will have to-morrow; what presumption then 
to predict the fate of the Catholic Church.” 

“ Oh, we can tell, the Bible can tell. Catholics 
have not the Bible. They are not allowed to read 
it.” 


244 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ That’s what I call a lie, Muggins, for you or 
any other man to say. We have the Bible, and 
the true Bible, what you have not, but a bogus 
one.” 

Well, well, keep cool, stranger. Let us come 
to facts. ■ There is P. M. Ronay, your boss, he is 
just a-going to jine the Methodists, and by all 
accounts he is a well-read young man.” 

“Who is P. M. Ronay? I don’t know such a 
man. You don’t mean Mr. Patrick Mulroony, I 
hope, the man I work for ? ” 

“ Yes, the same. The Irish xall him Mulroony, 
but we call him ‘ Ronay,’ a more refined name.” 

“Yes, the same as ye call yourselves Christians, 
though Universalists, Methodists, Quakers, Shak- 
ers, and Muggletonians, and other such titles are 
your proper names. It is a falsehood to call a man 
out of his name. Further, it is false to say that 
young Mulroony is going to join any of your pie- 
bald churches. He is going to do nothing of the 
kind, I tell you. He may marry one of your free- 
love women, but he never can become an apostate, 
by renouncing the Church of all ages, in which he 
was baptized and confirmed, and joining one af 
your shabby sects of yesterday? ” 

“Yes he is, I know, for Elder Bull, the honor- 
able Senator, told me no later than last . Sabbath. 
It’s what you ought to do, stranger.” 

“ Me ? I would as soon take a razor and cut my 
throat from ear to ear. I am bad enough already, 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


245 


from contact with the wicked people with whom I 
have been obliged to associate. But, if I were to 
quit my religion, then I might despair. If I 
repent and change my life, there is mercy for' me 
while I believe in the Catholic Church, but if I 
become an apostate, a heretic, then indeed is my 
fate sealed.” 

“ Oh, that’s only what the priests taught you. 
Give up these notions. Be like other men. Fol- 
low the great current of the great American peo- 
ple to their destiny.” 

^‘No, I won’t follow the current, but try to 
stem and resist the great flood that carries so 
many millions down to death and destruction.” 

“You are foolish, you are foolish! See how 
sensible your boss is — he, the best scholar in the 
academy, who took all the prizes and made the 
valedictory address; he is a credit, even if he is 
Irish, while you, a native, I presume, of Indiana, 
follow those old-fashioned ways of the Catholics.’’ 

“ I do not care what my boss does, though as 
yet he has done nothing to be ashamed of. What, 
is he to be a pattern for me ? No sir, I would not 
follow his example one step. I know what these 
- free-love women are, after ten years’ steamboating. 
I know too much about such cattle to be gulled by 
their arts, like young inexperienced Mulroony. 
When he is as old a tar as I am, then he will 
estimate at the true value such nice women as 
Polly Spoones, and the rest^ of the free-love 
crowd.’! 


246 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ Oh, no, you mistake. It is a high honor for 
that young Irishman to get the hand of one of 
our most religious young ladies ; indeed it is.’’ 

“ It is, eh ? Well, I renounce such honors as 
to get an old maid for my companion for life, if she 
stays with him for life, and not for a time, as that 
holy man, Elder' Bull, stayed with his wife only as 
long as she continued compatible or comfortable, 
ha, ha, ha ! Oh, what religious men your preachers 
are ! ” 

Give up your old notions, friend stranger. I 
see you are not eating any meat to-day, only but- 
ter instead. Come, allow me to help you with 
some nice ham,” and, suiting the action to the word, 
he placed a large slice of fat pork on the top of 
Mickey’s mashed potatoes. The latter raised his 
knife to his shoulder, in the act of plunging it into 
Muggins’ throat, but he checked himself, and drop- 
ped his knife, and standing up with lightning in 
his eye, dealt him. Muggins, such a blow on' the 
temple with his left hand as stretched him roaring 
on the floor, and then, raising his stiff leg he gave 
him one kick which caused his bones to rattle on 
the floor. “ Confound you,” he said, no man ever 
insulted me before in that way but one, and he 
never insulted a man after me. But you are too 
mean, I will only kick you like a dog.” And so 
saying, he took his hat and walked out to his 
• work. 

Mrs. Muggins was at first greatly alarmed for 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


247 


the fate of her husband. But he soon rallied, 
under the application of a little pain-killer and 
brandy. 

' Mickey Bocagh returned to the house in the 
evening to his supper of nice fresh trout caught in 
Pine Creek. There was no allusion made to the 
outrage that took place at noon, and from that day 
to the end of the time he worked for Mr.‘ Muggins 
there was no religious controversy at meals, there 
was no long- prayer under pretence of blessing, 
there were no angry allusions to countries or 
creeds. But one thing t/iere was, most assuredly, 
and that was a very good fish dinner on all Fridays 
and Fast days while Mickey Bocagh worked at 
Farmer Muggins’, and this was hot only very satis- 
factory to himself, but to most of the hired help, 
who felt the same grievance regarding food on 
days of fast and abstinence as Mickey did, but 
who lacked sufficient intelligence and independence 
to demand a change. 




CHAPTER XXL 

MICKEY BOCAGH’^ REPENTS OF HIS RASHNESS, AND IN- 
STRUCTS HIS MISTRESS. 


ROM the day of Mickey’s brutal assault on 
Mr. Muggins till the end of the entire 
month that he worked for the latter, there 
was not a word of angry discussion or dis- 
pute about religion between him or any member of 
the farmer’s family, and he had the same accommo- 
dation extended to him, regarding the days of absti- 
nence and fast prescribed by the Church, as if he- 
worked for a Catholic family. Mrs. Muggins or- 
dered her good man to provide her larder with a 
barrel of good Newfoundland codfish, and besides, 
she left orders with a German named Boff, in the 
village, who made a livelihood by fishing, to bring 
some fresh lake or river fish on Fridays for the use 
of the hired help. She tried to hush up all the 
gossip about the assault on her husband by Mickey, 
and prevented him from having the latter prosecu- 
ted. She very sensibly remarked that her husband ’ 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


249 


caused by provocation, if he did not deserve, what 
he received from the rough hands of.the river man, 
and that instead of prosecuting his assailant, he 
should take a lesson from the occurrence for his 
guidance in future in his conversation and conduct 
towards his hired help. 

The unlucky river man himself, after his passion 
cooled off, regretted exceedingly what had occur- 
red, and took occasion the next day after the fracas 
to declare to the lady of the house, the farmer’s 
wife, that he was sorry for what had happened, and 
that he would gladly forfeit the earnings of a whole 
season to have what occurred undone again. “ I 
have such a high temper, madam,” he said, ‘‘ that 
sometimes I do not think of what I do till after it 
is done. We river men generally return an insult 
by a blow before we take time to speak. T am real 
sorry ; I hope the boss is not much hurt. I did not 
wait to think what I was going to do till the harm 
was done.” 

‘‘Oh, not much hurt, Mickey,” answered the 
matron, mildly ; “ I really blame my husband for 
his having interfered with you or your religion. 
It was none of his business what you did believe, 
or what you eat. Don’t feel uneasy about it. It 
is only a scratch, and with a little tincture of arnica 
it will be well in a few days.’’ 

“ Too bad, entirely. I hope you will tell your 
husband how bad I feel, and that I am satisfied to 
do all in my power to atoae for the injury done to 


250 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


him, madam. I can’t express how sorry I am for 
what I did.” 

Don’t you feel uneasy ; he has already allowed 
that it was all his own fault. He does not want a 
word said about it. I never knew, nor did my 
husband, that Catholics were so particular about 
what they eat on Fridays and fast days. We have 
had Catholics here often to work, and they neyer 
made no objection to the food placed before them ; 
and as I could never learn on what ground the 
Catholics objected to the use of flesh meat on Fri- 
days, I, of course, took no pains to supply them 
with fish or any other food, except such 4s we used 
ourselves. I would like to know the reason why 
Catholics won’t use flesh on Fridays.” 

“ I am but a very poor Catholic,” answered 
Mickey, “ one merely in name, but bad as I am, I 
can explain to you, madam, why the Church for- 
bids us to use flesh meat on Fridays. All Chris- 
tians believe that our Lord Jesus Christ dkd on the 
cross, to save us, on a Friday, called Good Friday. 
And, as His Divine flesh was torn and wounded by 
His cruel executioners on that day, we, to show our 
detestation of that guilt, that nailed Him to the 
cross after scourging his flesh, abstain from the use 
of all flesh on that and all Fridays of the year. 
This is one reason why we don’t use flesh meat on 
Fridays.” . 

‘‘ Indeed, my friend, I think that is a very good 
reason, and a very worthy motive for the abstinence 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


251 


of Catholics. I heard the practice frequently ridi- 
culed, but surely none can ridicule or condemn it, 
but rather approve of this custom of Catholics after 
hearing these motives.” 

“ There are other reasons too, for our fasts and 
abstinence : our clergy tell us we must mortify our 
passions and wicked inclinations, and subdue our 
fleshly desires ; hence, they order us to fast, as 
well as pray, as our Lord did, to attain that desira- 
ble end of a Christian life. St. Paul, St. John the 
Baptist, and even our Lord himself, fasted, leaving 
us an example to imitate them at an humble dis- 
tance. Hence, we fast, hoping for the reward He 
promised those who fast and pray. Our clergy 
thus teach us, by advice and example, to walk in 
the paths pointed out by the saints.” 

“I see the wisdom of their teaching. I am 
sorry that our preachers inculcate these duties so 
seldom. There is another thing, also, I never 
could understand, and that is, why it is that Catho- 
lics are so attached to their priests. I had girls 
here often to live with me, and they would not go 
to a ball, or join in any other pleasant frolic, for 
fear of the priest. They used to tell me the priest 
forbade them. And when I used to urge that the 
priest could never know of their doings, they would 
answer yes, that he would know all that they 
would do amiss. I never could understand this, 
no more than the attachment of all Catholics to 
their priests. We don’t regard our ministers as 


252 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Catholics do theii* priests. I would like to know 
the reason of this difference between Catholics and 
other denominations.” 

“ That I can explain to you, too, ma’am. Cath- 
olics all love their priests, and fear them as well. 
And the reason of this is, because our priests have 
power which your ministers have not.” 

Power, do you say ? Why, what power can 
they have ? They are generally foreigners in this 
country, many of them not citizens, even. How 
then can they have power, for instance, like Elder 
Bull, who is now a Senator, and can get a man 
into any nice situation, as Postmaster, or Revenue 
Collector, because of his power with the President 
and the Congress.” 

“ Ah, there is where the difference lies. Your 
preachers may have power among men, with the 
President or Congress, to get men into snug 
offices and berths, but the power our priests wield 
is of another kind. Their influence is with God, 
and their power over evil spirits and all that pre- 
vents man’s salvation. Christ had all power from 
the Eternal Father, and that same power is con- 
fided to the priests of our Church. ‘ All power is 
given to me in Heaven and Earth; as My Father 
sends me, so I send you.’” 

‘‘You don’t mean to say you ever saw an in- 
stance of your priests exercising power over evil 
spirits, as Christ did while on earth, do you ?” 

“Yes, I do, many a time. One time when I 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


253 


was on the river our boat, called the ^ Chouteau,' 
put up for some repairs at Cape Girardeau, in Mis- 
souri, and while there, there was a great uproar in 
the town. A whole family, of the name of Star- 
buck, got possessed, by evil spirits. They were all, 
at first, spiritual-rappers, and used to have meetings 
of table-turnings and fortune-telling. Finally, the 
spirits that they raised, they could not lay^ and 
taking possession of the whole gang of them, they 
put them into horrid convulsions, grimaces and dis- 
tortions, so that the whole city was gathered around 
to hear them hollering, screeching, cursing and 
smashing things generally. Well, it seemed that the 
devil, and his name was legion, had got into these 
people. Nothing else could torment them so fear- 
fully. The preachers all came to pray over them 
and to read out of their old Bibles. But the devils 
only laughed at them, cursed them, told their 
secret sins in public, and knocked them down if 
they came near enough to the possessed people.” 

Dear me, that was dreadful ! and what hap- 
pened next?” 

“ I will tell you. There was a small preacher, 
an Episcopalian, who came to try his hand at the 
expulsion of the devils, but they seized him by the 
neck and near throttled him to death, and then 
flung him ten or twelve yards into the middle of 
the road from the house, where he lay groaning till 
he was removed.” 

‘‘ Did you see these occurrences with your own 
eyes ? ” 


254 


PROFIT A ND LOSS, 


“ Yes, that I did, so help me — , but I must not 
swear, as I vowed to give up cursing and oaths, and 
am preparing to go to confession. Then the peo- 
ple’s acquaintances recommended to send for the 
Catholic priests of the college. The priests came 
down to where the possessed people were. They 
sprinkled holy water, lighted blessed candles, and 
compelled the devils to tell what brought them 
there, and who they were, making them speak Latin, 
Greek, French, Dutch and several languages. Fi- 
nally the priests ordered the possessed up to the 
Catholic Church, where, among a large crowd of 
5,cxx) people, they expelled the devils from the pos- 
sessed family, commanding them to go back to the 
regions below, and made the family as sound and 
natural as ever they were. The whole family be- 
came Catholics, and many of the Protestant citi- 
zens, seeing so much power exercised by priests, 
who could only get it from God, also submitted to 
the Catholic Church.’’ 

“ That was really wonderful. I should, I guess, 
myself become a Catholic if I saw such power- as 
that exercised by priests of the Catholic Church.” 

I should think you would. I saw that then, 
as sure as I see you, and greater things than these 
I saw done by priests.” 

“No wonder, indeed, that you are attached to 
your priests. I wish our' ministers had such 
power.” 

“ But why need you believe what I tell you ? 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


255 


Did you not read in the papers last week — I know 
I did — that the same thing happened in Watertown, 
in the State of Wisconsin, within the present 
month?” 

“Yes, I believe I read such an account in the 
St. Paul Press ; but we do hot believe one-half what 
we read in that paper. Those papers put in all sorts 
of stories to fill up space. And we regarded that 
as one of the stories of the Press.” 

“ I allow that that, and other papers, often state 
what is false, especially when they make money 
out of the falsehood. But, as the devil himself, 
though the father of lies, sometimes is compelled 
to speak the truth, so those lying newspapers 
sometimes tell the truth. And that is .why I 
believe what they state about the people out of 
whom the devils were expelled, in Watertown, by 
the priests of that city. They could make no 
money by telling such an occurrence as that.” 

So this is the sort of power you mean when 
your people speak of the power of the clergy of the 
Church of Rome.” 

“ Yes, they have the power that God gave them 
when He sent his disciples to preach the gospel, 
giving- them power over spirits and all adversaries, 
and making them the conquerors of the whole 
earth to the gospel of Jesus Christ. This power 
your preachers have not, nor do they pretend that 
they have it. On the contrary, they say that no 
such power exists now on earth. But the power 


256 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

to get into office, to exercise political influence, to 
get money, to disseminate falsehood, this power 
they are ever aiming at, and if they succeed in 
attaining to that worldly power, they soon turn 
their backs on their pulpits, betray their spiritual 
charge, and renounce the gospel which they pre- 
tend to preach, for place and position in the State. 
There is as much difference between the power of 
our priesthood and the power that your ministers 
are after, as between the soul and body, angels and 
men, God and Satan, Heaven and Hell. May God 
forgive me for speaking of that bad place.’’ 

Well, now, I am glad you made me these ex- 
planations. I never knew before what Catholics 
meant by the power of their priests. It’s a wonder 
to me that your young boss, Mr. Ronay, if he be- 
lieves as you do, would have exchanged his relig- 
ion for the Methody, which claims no such power 
as you speak of.” 

Madam, my young boss has no notion of join- 
ing the Methodists, or any other sect He is only 
a little careless, like myself, while sowing his ‘ wild 
oats,’ and waiting on the girls, among whom he is 
a great favorite. Wait till he is dying ; then those 
who will live can see if he will have the courage to 
die outside the Church to whom God gave power 
over sin and devils. I’m very much mistaken if 
that young man will ever join any Church but the 
one he was baptized in. Your preachers are' too 
sanguine on that point.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


257 


“ I assure you I heard our minister pray for 
him, by name, several times, at our night services 
in meeting-house, and that all believe that it is 
through the Elder’s prayers young Ronay has been 
got to come over to the Methodists.’’ 

“ That old hypocrite, your Elder, may as well 
whistle jigs to a milestone as pray to have my boss, 
Mr. Muli-oony, join his church. He will do noth- 
ing of the kind. It is only a story got up among 
the old maids of the town. The young man may 
be a foolish wild young man, as I allow he is. He 
could be nothing else from his. attending singing- 
schools, quilting-matches, spelling-schools, donation 
parties, sociables, camp-meetings, and other places 
where he can have plenty of fun. But, it is one 
thing to be a bad Catholic, and another thing to be 
a pervert from Catholicity to any sect. I call my- 
self a very bad Catholic ; but for all that, I would 
as soon cut my right arm off, or swing myself from 
a cross beam, at the end of a rope, as join any of 
their churches. I might do it through hypocrisy, 
but I could never do it sincerely.” 

If you, Mr. Mickey, be a bad Catholic, who 
seem to be so strict in observing the regulations 
of your Church, I would like to come across a 
good Catholic. Those must be very good indeed, 
who are better than you.” 

“ Indeed, ma’am, I am not only a bad Catholic, 
God help me, but perhaps the worst one in the 
world. If I was not a bad Catholic, I would not 
17 


258 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


have disgraced myself with what I done yesterday. 
I should rather have cut off my right hand than 
raise it as I did, to strike a fellow-creature ; and 
besides, my employer, whom I ought to obey and 
love. Eut I hope I shall do penance for this bad 
act, as, with the help of God, I am going to the 
priest next Saturday .to confess all my sins and to 
amend my life.’’ 

Well, no, do tell ; do you Teally confess to a 
priest all your sins ? That is a thing I should not 
like to do, above all other things.” 

“ Certainly, I confess all my sins of thought., 
word and deed., in order that I may deserve the 
pardon which our Lord has promised to all who 
repent and submit themselves to that authority to 
which, in His Church, He confided the power of 
forgiving sins, when he said, ‘ Whose sins ye for- 
give, they are forgiven.’ ’’ 

That is very hard to believe, for ‘ who can 
forgive sins but God?’ does. not the Bible say.” 

None can forgive sins but God, except those 
into whose hands He committed the power. They 
were the Jews who spoke these words — ‘who can 
forgive sins but God ? ’ ” Our Lord, and those 
who believed in Him, said that the ‘ Son of man 
had power to forgive sins, and the people glorified 
God, who gave this power to 7nen' ’’ 

“ Is it not God who makes the earth fruitful, 
causes our crops to grow, and everything to 
increase and multiply on the earth ? and yet, unless 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


259 


we labor, seed down the earth, and cultivate the 
soil, .we can’t have any crops. It is God gives us 
plentiful crops, yet without man’s labor and minis- 
try, as it were, the earth is comparatively barren. 
So, God forgives sins, but through the ministry 
and agency of men. God does all things in the 
Church, or His Spiritual Kingdom, but He exer- 
cises His power through men. What one does 
through an agent, he really does himself, but 
indirectly. It was the Lord who expelled the 
devils out of the bodies of those people that were 
possessed, but he appointed these priests as his 
agents and representatives in doing so.'’ 

‘‘•All what you say to me seems quite rational, 
and easy to be understood ; but, as I never before 
heard those matters explained in this manner, I 
feel a little confused.” 

“ I have no doubt you have been told to believe 
in the Lord Jesus, and that you will be saved. 
You have never been exhorted to fast, to do pen- 
ance, to subdue your appetites, to renounce your- 
self, take up your cross and follow Jesus Christ. 
All you have been told is to believe He died for you, 
and that you will be. saved. Now, if that be all 
that is needed, merely to believe that Christ died 
for us without the necessity of any act of self-denial, 
what is the use of having meeting-houses, or 
preachers, or camp-meetings, or any other religious 
exercises, when the belief of this one point will 
save the greatest sinner? The Catholic Church 


26 o profit and loss. 

insists on belief most lively and unwavering ; but 
still, in addition, tells us to watch and pray, to fast 
and abstain, to give alms, to visit the sick, clothe 
the naked, practice humility, resist the inclinations 
of the flesh, and do penance ; in a word, to practice 
all virtues, to avoid evil and do good. We have 
sacraments and sacrifices to aid us, the saints to 
assist us, and the church to confirm and strengthen 
us by being the channel of God’s graces to our 
souls ; and even then, with all these aids, we must 
work our salvation in ‘fear and trembling.’ ” 

“ God help those who want most of these aids 
to salvation.” 

“Yes, I say, God help them. For, if the just 
will hardly be saved, what will become of the 
ungodly ? But I must now go to my work. Excuse 
me if I said anything to displease you, ma’am.” 

“ Oh, not at all. I shall be happy to hear you 
again. But one word more, and I am done. You 
say God forgives your sins through the ministry of 
the priests.- Is it not better to go to God himself 
for forgiveness ? As our elders say, is it not best 
to go to headquarters when we ask a favor of the 
Lord?” 

“ Why, then, when you are sick, do you send for 
•a physician ? Is it not God that can heal your 
body? Why not call on God and shut the door 
on your family physician ? When the Lord dis- 
played his power before Pharaoh, why did he not 
do so directly, without sending Moses as his minis- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


261 


ter? Why did the sea not overwhelm the hosts of 
Pharaoh till Moses stretched his wand over the 
waters and ordered them to return to their former 
bed ? Why did not our Lord himself directly heal 
the ten lepers till he ordered them to go sho\v 
themselves to the priests ? Why, instead of appoint- 
ing the twelve apostles to preach the gospel to all 
nations, did not God himself speak to the nations in 
a voice so powerful as to compel attention and 
obedience from all peoples? There is no sense in 
saying you go directly to God, or, as your preach- 
ers profanely state it, to headquarters, if you refuse 
to hear and obey the orders of those whom the 
Lord has placed in command. We must hear the 
Church, and she will tell us to do the will of God, 
for to her He said, ^ As my Father sent me, I send 
you.’ ” 

The old lady thanked Mickey again for his 
explanations, cordially pardoned his injury to her 
husband, and rose up from the conversation with 
him in admiration of his intelligence, and deeply 
regretting that one who seemed to know so much 
about his religion, and so rational and almost pro- 
found in his knowledge, as she judged, should be 
deformed by such an ungovernable temper and an 
exterior of such uncouthness. 

“ That man,” she said to her daughter, a young 
woman of eighteen, “ can talk like a preacher, and 
appears to know the Bible as well as the best of 
them, and yet he is only a river man, who earns his 
living by steamboating.” 


26.2 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

“ That accounts, mother,’’ remarked the young 
lady, for his ugly temper. I can’t bear him now, 
after what he has done to pa. I wish he was out 
of the house.” 

“ You must forgive him, Carrie. It’s his temper 
and his associations that are at fault, and not his 
mind. Did you notice how he shed tears when 
apologizing for what he’d done ? ’’ 

‘^No, 'ma. Did he really cry? I was not pres- 
ent.” 

‘‘ Indeed' he did, and more than once. And I 
noticed that he hardly touched his food since the 
unfortunate occurrence.” . ‘ 

Really ! He may be sorry then for what he 
done ? ” 

Sorry? I guess he is sorry. Do not show him 
any disrepect.” 

“ No, I shan’t, if he shed tears.” 

I assure you he did that, and abundantly 

too.” 





CHAPTER XXII. 

THE GENTEEL IRISH-AMERICAN EXPLAINS HIS PRINCIPLES, 
BUT IS REBUKED BY HIS MOTHER. 


^ N spite of the prudent reserve of his wife, the 
jT report regarding the assault on farmer Mug- 
gins, by Mickey Bocagh, got a very wide cir- 
culation. In the village of Brighton the 
slight injury he received was exaggerated into a 
severe fracture of his skull. In the county town, 
the report had it that the farmer was killed. In 
the large cities of the Northwest, the telegraph 
told of his having been shot by an Irishman, who 
burned his house, over his carcass, to escape detec- 
tion. In Chicago it was posted in large capital let- 
ters that a respectable American family were mur- 
dered by an Irish laborer, and their residence, after 
having been plundered, was burned. Farther East, 
in Boston and New York, the telegrams had it that 
several respectable American families were mur- 
dered by a party of Irishmen. Finally, in Harper’s 
Nasty Pictorials, there was a hideous picture of a 


264 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


party of drunken Irish Catholics, murdering a fam- 
ily of innocent American Methodist Protestants. 
And the empty-headed editors and scribes for the 
daily and weekly press, who were at their wit’s ends, 
and biting their nails to the quick, for lack of mat- 
ter to supply copy for their industrious compositors, 
found in this incident, in the house of an obscure 
farmer, in a remote country district, in the extreme 
Northwest, ample matter to employ their eloquent 
pens for a month at least. Out of such incidents 
are the materials supplied which go to build the 
insecure foundations of modern contemporary his- 
tory. 

In the olden time it was not so. Then, news 
travelled, slowly, but it was more reliable. If it 
wanted the wings of lightning to travel with, it was 
surer, if slower, and less liable to the accidents that 
are certain to befall sooner or later those rash be- 
ings who affect too much familiarity with the thun- 
ders of Heaven, 

‘‘ What a singular instance of intellectual activ- 
ity and of the enterprise of rhodern times,’’ ex- 
claimed Mr. Patrick Mulroony one day, as he read 
the newspapers before the family circle, just as they 
were all sitting down to supper ; we have in just 
five days after the occurrence took place, an account 
in the city papers of your attack, Mickey, on the 
farmer Muggins. There is nothing can escape the 
vigilance of those newspaper men.” 

“ It got into the papers, did it ? ” asked Mickey,^ 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


265 


surprised, ‘‘I wonder how in the old Harry did 
the lying set get hold on it; Til bet they added 
something to it, if it went through their hands at 
all.” 

‘‘ Well, not much, the paper says, only, that you 
fractured his skull, ha ! ha !• ha ! ” 

Me fracture his skull ! Confound them, how 
could they say that, when I only hit him with 
my open hand ? • I would fracture the skulls of the 
lying cusses who printed that lie, if I could lay 
my hands on them, I promise you.” 

‘‘Oh ! ho ! here is another account that states 
that you killed neighbor Muggins. Yes, I declare ; 
and another telegram, further down, says you 
killed him and his wife and children, and then 
burned his house the conceal the evidence of your 
guilt.” 

“ They don’t say that, do they ? ” asked Mickey, 
dropping his knife and fork ; “ I guess you are 
‘gassing’ now.” 

“No, not a bit of it. There, you can read for 
yourself,” said Patrick, handing Mickey the paper. 

“ Well, well,” exclaimed the river, man, “ I 
never again will work a month on land. They are 
all a parcel of lying scamps on land. Now, on the 
river, or the ‘ run,’ though we are wet and cold, 
and work Sundays and holydays, and one gets 
lost now and again, yet we don’t have no liars 
among us. I always thought the newspapers 
stated nothing but the truth. But here we see 


266 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


that lies are as welcome to them as truth, and 
more welcome.’’ 

‘‘ Here is another version of it in Harper’s 
Journal of Civilization. There you are, Mickey, 
represented as leading a body of drunken Irish- 
men to murder an innocent religious family. Oh, 
that is going a little too far with the joke.” 

“ Joke, do you call it, Mr. Mulroony,” exclaimed 
Mickey in rage; “if you call it a joke, to slander 
an honest man in that style, I do not think you 
can be much better than those lying folks who 
try to assassinate people in this devilish manner, 
by their lying telegrams.” 

“ Oh, I don’t mean that the report is given in 
the jocoser amusing columns of the paper. Indeed, 
I think it is given as a piece of serious news, and I 
regret very much that your little scrape got circu- 
lated in this aggravated form. When T say the 
‘joke’ has gone too far, I mean that it becomes 
almost absurd on the face of it, and that people of 
reflection will refuse to give it credit. I advise 
you to keep cool. It will do you no good to get 
into such a passion about it.” 

“ How can I help getting into a passion when 
I see myself denounced in all the papers of the 
country as an assassin ? What will the captains 
on the river think, and the hands, when they read 
of such crimes by me, Mickey, who am known all 
the way from the Gulf of Mexico to Lake Superior, 
and from the Hudson River to Omaha?” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


267 


“ Oh, they won’t believe it. They know you 
too well to suspect you of being guilty of any such 
crimes.” 

I know they won’t believe it, for the various 
editions of the story, in the different papers, con- 
tradict one another. But thousands will believe it, 
and the fair fame of Ireland, my native land, and 
the Catholic Church, will suffer from the blasphe- 
mies of those who know no better, but take all their 
information from the lying pictorials and sectarian 
newspapers. This is what troubles me most.” 

I would not be troubled thus. Old Ireland 
and your old religion will survive these injurious 
rumors, I assure you. Take things cool,” 

I know ‘ that very well, boss. I know I am 
bad enough, and I don’t want to - be represented 
worse than I am. But I know what I shall do. I 
shall visit the offices of those papers, beginning 
with' St, Paul, that put those stories in circulation, 
and make them all take these stories back, or they 
shall feel the mettle of the knuckles of Mickey 
Bocagh.” 

Indeed you may spare yourself the trouble. 
All these reports will be forgotten in ten days. 
And you may .as well think of getting back into 
the tick every feather of a feather bed scattered 
before the wind on the prairie, as to get that re- 
port contradicted in all the newspapers in this great 
country. We live in an age of lightning progress, 
and would need to have a messenger of a speed 


268 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


quicker than lightning to recall any news that once 
gets running on the electric wires.'' 

After these remarks, Mickey got up from the 
table, took his hat, and bidding* the - old lady a 
hearty farewell, and desiring his wages to be paid 
to his mother, he* quit his employer’s house, and 
early next morning started for his old vocation on 
the steamboat. 

A brief pause ensued, consequent on the sudden 
departure of the indignant river man, which was 
interrupted by Mrs. Mulroony addressing her son 
in the following words : 

“ My dear Pat, as I do not feel well this week, 
I desire you to go up to speak to Father John, our 
pastor, about the quarterly solemn services for the 
repose of your poor father's soiil.’’ 

“ Mother, I leave all these matters to you, as I 
have always done. I do not like to go near that 
Irish priest. He is entirely too sharp, too much 
of a critic, and altogether too harsh — I may as well 
say it as think it — to suit my notions. I would 
much rather be excused from going to see him.” 

Why, my son, what do I hear you say? How 
can you have the assurance to speak disrespect- 
fully. of that accomplished gentleman ? How can 
you say that he is too severe or harsh ? Is he not 
the most mild and indulgent of confessors and 
directors of souls ? Is he not ever ready to attend 
to all the calls that come to him, day or night, in 
the discharge of his duties? He may be harsh in 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


26g 

his manner, or tone of voice, but is he not severer 
towards himself in fasting and vigils, and labors, 
than to the meanest man in his congregation ? 
When did you have an instance of his sharpness 
last ? Was he severe on you, my boy, at your last 
Easter confession, which I hope you have not neg- 
lected ? ” 

‘‘ He was sharp and . severe on me, mother, on 
the night himself and McMahon were here on the 
occasion of attending at McBeth’s dying bed. He 
snapped at me then, rebuking me openly, and on 
other occasions he has, I am told, censured me 
severely.” 

“ Perhaps, my dear son, you deserved his rebuke. 
Ought not his heroic, charitable conduct on that 
terribly severe night when the snow was measured 
by yards in depth, going to attend a man who did 
not belong to his Church, in danger, I may say, of 
his own life — ought not that one example alone 
cause you to admire him as a heroic priest, a true 
pastor, and almost a martyr in the holy cause of 
Christ? You ought to admire Father John for 
this, if for nothing else. But you did not answer 
my question, whether or not you went to your 
Easter confession ? I hope you have not neglected 
that solemn duty of your religion. Answer me 
candidly, as you used always to do. Did you per- 
form your Easter duties as you used to do when I 
was able to be about to see that you did it ? ” 

Mother, I would rather you would not cate- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


270 

chise me on this subject. I think I am too old for 
such questions now. But, if you insist on it, I will 
not deny, but tell you candidly, that I have not 
troubled that priest for over a year, for the dis- 
charge of any religious duty. I do not like him. 
I have not gone to his tribunal, as it is called, for 
reasons that I cannot get over. If it was that I 
would be compelled to go, I should choose some 
other priest. But in my present feelings, I do not 
think I will trouble any priest soon.” 

‘‘ My dear child, your remarks give me indeed 
great pain. I am sorry, sorry to the heart, when 
you talk so. It is allowed on all hands, that our 
priest is a learned man, and thus fit to be a safe 
guide for souls. For a great saint, St. Liguori, 
says that learning is more desirable in a director 
than even piety without learning. Besides this, 
our priest is a man of vast experience and sincere 
piety, and I would consider myself very unfortu- 
nate indeed, if I could not esteem such a man. 
Oh, my son, I fear the company you have got into ; 
in and from association with persons of that school 
you frequent, has ruined you ! ” 

“Ruined me? Not at all. I never had finer 
prospects, mother. Don't you notice the many 
nice premiums I brought home to adorn your par- 
lor, from the -academy, and I have a fair chance to 
become County Superintendent of Schools in a 
year or two. My prospects are good and my profit 
sure, if I succeed in my honest ambition.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


271 


“ I don’t speak of your profit as an office-holder, 
but of a profit far more desirable, that is, to gain a 
crown of immortal glory in heaven. And if you 
neglect your religious duties you surely forfeit these 
honors, and lose your soul.’’ 

“ Well, to be plain with you, mother dear, as I 
have ever been, I must tell you, that thinking as I 
do, and with feelings which I entertain towards 
your pious, learned and spirited priest, I cannot 
persuade myself to go to confession to him.” 

* “ Well, then, there are other priests whom you 
can approach, and who rhay be more to your taste 
though few are so learned and experienced as our 
Father John. You have no objection, I hope, to 
go to these for confession. Or, you can go to the 
missionaries who are to be in the parish Church of 
Father St. Denys, that saintly man whom all 
admire and venerate, even the Protestants and 
others who are candid enough to honor virtue and 
heroism wherever they find them.’’ 

I do not think I will trouble any of those holy 
men for a while. I can see Catholics who go often 
to the sacraments, as bad and worse than the peo- 
ple who do not believe in or practice these cere- 
monies. Besides, as I do not commit any sins that 
I can reproach myself with, I think I have no 
great need of confession^” 

“ Oh’, my son, my lost son,” said the pious 
matron, bursting into tears, “ why do you talk so 
boldly and impiously. The day was, ere my heart 


272 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


was hardened through grief and suffering, that I 
could weep rivers of tears at hearing such unchris- 
tian and unholy sentiments. How dare you judge 
those people you say you have seen acting ill after 
frequenting the holy sacraments ? They might be 
far worse in their conduct did they not frequent 
them. Is it not rash and sinful in you to presume 
to judge of their condition in the sight of God ? 
It is to God alone that the prerogative belongs, not 
even to angels, of judging -what men are in his 
sight. And, as for you saying that you commit no 
sin, that is the height of presumption. Does not 
the scripture say that even the ‘just man falls seven 
times a day?’ Who can count the number of 
times that the sinner falls? O, may God forgive 
you this day, my poor lost son. And may his 
Divine Majesty save me from having to answer for 
those impious sentiments of my poor perverted 
boy.” 

“ There it is, mother, always the same unpleas- 
antness and scenes when you commence to speak 
about religion, duties and devotions. I often told 
you that these subjects are disagreeable, and should 
never be introduced outside the church or meeting- 
house. It makes it so disagreeable to me that I 
shun this house where I can have no amusement 
or pleasure, and spend most of my leisure hours 
where the subjects of religion, devotion or purity, 
never come up, except to be laughed at. Whereas, 
here at home, where I ought to have peace and 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


273 


be let alone, it is all the time : ‘ When have you been 
at confession ? How often to Mass ? Did you do 
your penance? Have you kept the fasts?’ and 
thousands other things so disagreeable to one to be 
all the time reminded of.” 

‘‘ My son, are not these subjects so disagreeable 
to you now, since you went into bad society, the 
principal topics that ought to be continually spoken 
of and remembered, and practised? f allow it is 
disagreeable to our human nature to meditate on 
eternal truths, to pray much or always, to fast and 
do penance. But does not our Lord say that those 
who neglect such exercises will eternally perish ? 
But you go into society where these things are never 
spoken of unless to be mocked at ! Do you think 
that good society for you who were baptized, train- 
ed and educated a Catholic ? Who expects salvation 
through these practices alone which you hear ridi- 
culed and laughed at amoifg the wicked? I see 
now the fruit of the teaching of the academy. I see 
that to gain a little praise from foolish men, or from 
a desire of popularity, you have lost your faith. 
God send, it may stop here. ‘ But those who lose 
the faith soon after, by a divine judgment, also 
suffer shipwreck of their morals.” 

‘‘No, mother, I hope I am not so far gone as 
you fear. If my morals 'were not correct I should 
not have been selected by a unanimous vote of the 
professors, trustees and pupils, to deliver the vale- 
dictory at the late exercises.” 


274 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


‘‘What do you say. How can your morals or 
sentiments be good, honorable or proper, when I 
find you have been ashamed of your old honorable 
name, ‘ Patrick Mulroony,’ and allowed it to be 
mutilated into ‘ Paran M. Ronay.’ Do you count 
this an instance of a high moral sentiment ?’’ 

“ Oh, that was done without my desire, in the 
first place, by the principal and professors. Then 
when it was adopted by the whole class and school, 
and even by the citizens of the county, I consented 
to the change on account of euphony! ” 

“ What, ‘ funny,’ do you say ? I do not see 
anything ‘ funny’ in Mulroony, but the change to 
‘ Ronay’ is not only funny but barbarous and ab- 
surd. You put ‘ Paran’ in place of Patrick, that 
old royal name of the old Romans. Whereas 
Paran, as our learned priest told you, was nothing 
more than a Greek adverb or preposition. Ah, 
my dear Pat, he that offends in one thing becomes 
guilty of all. When you change your name, the 
change of your religion and principles are sure to 
come about soon. Besides, it shows a weakness 
and a silliness in men to conform to the igno- 
rant innovations of their inferiors, that a man who 
does, or shows such weakness, may be put down as 
of no character. None can respect him long. He 
will soon be despised by all thinking men.” 

“You are pretty severe on me, mother, but I 
shall not contend with you in reference to this 
matter. What appears very absurd and unreason- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


275 


able to you, for some cause that I cannot explain, 
seems to me to be the very reverse of what you 
designate them. Tastes differ, but we must not 
fall out with others because their feelings do not 
agree with ours,” and so saying our genteel Irish- 
American stood up, bowed to his mother and 
retired. 


X 






CHAPTEK XXIIL 


Et nunc omnis dger, nunc omnis parturit arbos. 
Nunc froudent sylvae, nunc formoeissimus annus. 
Now every tree and plant its fruitful tribute yields. 
Whether in orchards, woods, or cultivated fields. 


Pf^ELLO, what’s all those flags and music 
.jjl for so early this morning,’’ asked Mr. 
Smylie of the hotel-keeper, Mr. Broad- 
head, of the village of Brighton. 

“ They have been about all night marching, 
counter-marching and hollering, so that I have not 
been able to close my eyes for an hour since I 
retired at nine o’clock last evening.’’ 

“ Confound them, I too heard them all night. 
It is an excursion of the pupils and the teachers of 
the academy. I believe they are going- all the way 
to Lake Minetonka. They are having great prep-' 
arations made for the trip, and it is got up by the 
Methodists who are intending to hold a three days’ 
camp-meeting in one of the islands of the lake: 
Here they come, you see, with wagons. Let’s see, 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


277 

there are ten wagons, and as many flags and mot- 
toes, and a band of music.” 

I should think it was unwise to drag so many 
young people such a distance (it must be over 
thirty miles from here) over rough roads, too.” 

“ It is scarcely that distance, and starting at 
this early hour, it is just quarter past four, they 
will reach there easily before noon. They will 
have a very pleasant trip if the weather holds fair, 
or no accidents happen.” 

‘‘Yes, if no accidents happen, you may well add, 
for I never knew of any of these so-called religious 
fHes-champHres^ as the Frenchs-call them, come off 
without some accident. Either the weather sud- 
denly changes, something breaks down, or some- 
body gets hurt. It is a common remark in our 
neighborhood, among the farmers, to say to their 
hands, ‘ hurry up now, boys, for we are going to 
have bad weather, for this is camp-meeting week.’ 

“Yes, that is the general impression, even in 
this neighborhood also. I hope if anything 
unpleasant happens consequent on this excursion, 
it won’t be rain, for we have had so much of that 
article, already that any more would ruin the wheat 
and kill the corn crop altogether.” 

“ There they go now, marching to the tune of 
‘Yankee Doodle.’ Really, they look pretty, espe- 
cially since the greatest number seem to be young 
ladies.” 

Prominent among the occupants of the first 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


278 

vehicle were our young Irish-American friend, 
Mulroony, Professor Hoskey, and the female princi- 
pal of the Academy, Miss Spoonea, together with a 
dozen of the more advanced young female pupils. 
The second car or vehicle contained Elder Bull and 
his accomplished wife 7iumber two, and most of the 
married and middle aged members of the church. 
In the third car was Fribbler, surrounded by his 
admirers, mostly young men, prominent among, 
whom were Riordan, Mulcahy, Hogan, Haley, and a 
few other teachers from the neighboring Irish set- 
tlements, who joined this excursion from love of fun 
and excitement, or a desire to fish, hunt or bathe. 
The day was delightful, the country over which 
they passed broken, uneven, and mostly uncultivat- 
ed, but the scenery, though not striking, was varied 
and fantastic. Every tree, shrub and bramble, in 
the inimitable language of the immortal Mantuan 
bard, quoted at the head of this chapter, bloomed 
with a beauty and elegance peculiar to itself. The 
green, of course, was the color in which the charm- 
ing taste of nature had decked herself, the gay but 
modest blossoms having retired and resigned their 
places to the more useful but less conspicuous fruits 
which now commenced to gather on the wild plum,, 
apple and cherry trees. But in those green and 
abundant robes that covered the naked limbs of the 
giant veterans of the forest, after their long contin- 
ued struggles against the blasts and blows of win- 
ter, there was an indescribable variety of color. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


279 


shade, contrast and perspective, that charmed the 
eye of the lover of nature, gladdened his heart, and 
afforded the most, irresistible testimony to the in- 
finite wealth, resources and benevolence of the Crea- 
tor whose unerring pencil had painted them at a 
single stroke. The panoramic view from one of 
those elevated hills or a knoll east of the city of 
St. Paul was such as could not but delight the eye 
of the landscape artist, were he on the spot to trans- 
fer the scene to his canvas on this early morning 
in June. The country looks as if its surface was 
formed into its uniform irregularity by the labor of 
man or instincts of animals. 

As young Mulcahy remarked, who was out from 
the old sod but two years, these hillocks remind 
one of the fairy hills or mounds which we have in 
Ireland. It is very singular,” he continued, “the- 
whole country I see is so regularly laid out in 
those irregular hillocks, that, as Sir Walter Scott 
said of the county of Down, it reminds one of a 
quantity of eggs in a broad dish or sieve.’' 

No, Mulcahy,” said Riordan, “but these here 
knolls are only the houses of muskrats, which, when 
the water that once covered this whole place 
drained off, then grew into these hills. I mean the 
rat houses, not the rats themselves.” 

‘‘Yes,” interposed Hogan, “ or it might be that 
.when the foundations of those knolls were laid, the 
rats were a great deal larger than they are now. 
Your rats .in those days gone by might have been 
as large as an ox of our degenerate days.” 


280 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ That might be, sure enough,” added Mulcahy. 
“ For if there were giants in those days, there must 
be gigantic animals too, otherwise those giants 
could not get enough to eat. What would a thou- 
sand prairie chickens be, or fifty deer, in the larder 
of one of those ancient Polyphemi, who, as Virgil 
tells us, made his supper on the carcass of a couple 
hundred sheep, and a cask or two of wine which 
Ulysses gave him to get him asleep, for he well 
knew his chance of escaping was all in his eye.” 

“I wonder if that old hero, Ulysses, was any 
relation of our great President,” inquired the clas- 
sical Elder Fribbler, who took great interest in 
this conversation between the Irish schoolmasters. 

Well, I am not sure whether or not old Ulys- 
ses was anything to our noble President. I should 
think not, for the old sage used to make presents, 
whereas your modern wise man is remarkable for. 
receiving presents ; ha, ha, ha. That’s one great 
difference between the two men.” 

• ‘‘ These are remarks that should not be tolera- 
ted in reference to an immortal general ; and, gen- 
tlemen, if they were made during the late rebellion, 
you would be all sent to Fort Warren or Fort 
Sneller,” interrupted Elder Fribbler, with a frown. 

“ I agree with you, elder,” said Haley, we 
ought not to speak of politics or politicians during 
this excursion. We have topics plenty to employ 
our conversational powers ; the scenery, the appear- 
ance of the surface of the land, the lakes, the 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


281 


streams, the woods, the prairies, the fish, the game, 
and the inhabitants — ” 

“ Who are not all fishes,” interrupted Riordan. 

“All these things, gentlemen, are legitimate 
subjects for conversation, opinion, discussion, and 
controversy, leaving the sacred subject of religion 
for more solemn occasions, and discarding politics 
altogether, as containing the elements' of discord. 
But while these * are ^ my sentiments, I must be 
candid and tell you. Elder Fribbler, that you are 
the very man who introduced politics, by asking 
the not very enlightened question, whether the 
Grecian Ulysses was as brave a man as our present 
great man of the same name at Washington.” 

“ That’s true,” answered all. “ It Is yourself 
who are to blame, if politics were introduced. Elder 
Fribbler.” 

“ Now let us turn our attention, gentlemen, to 
the elevating scenes around us, and, lifting our 
minds above, to the Author of all this pleasing 
variety and inexhaustible natural wealth of God’s 
footstool, we can then easily forget the little 
men who try, from availing themselves of the 
resources that spring from the ‘ chapter of acci- 
dents,’ to puff themselves, like the frog in the 
fable,' to enormous proportions. Such are your 
politicians, generally your preachers of discord, 
your disseminators of uncharitableness, and sowers 
of dissensions, political, religious and national. 
We are children of the same Divine Parent, some 


282 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


froward and some faithful, and as we have inher- 
ited this broad, fertile earth, to use and enjoy it 
while in life, we ought to try and get along peace- 
ably during the short time that remains for us as 
tenants of this house of clay. We see those 
mounds here of a race of beings of ages gone by; 
when so many ages shall have elapsed as have 
gone by since the foundation of those hillocks 
were laid, whether by men, animals, or the action 
of one or more of the elements, where will we be 
then, or what monuments will exist to enable men 
to conjecture that we ever walked or drove over 
these picturesque mounds?’’ 

“ Bravo, Haley,’’ uttered many voices. “Those, 
are the true sentiments. The first man that men- 
tions politics or religion again, shall be put out 
on the road and left behind to plod his way back 
the best he can to the narrow circle of his bigoted 
clique.” 

“ Come, give us a song, one of you boys,’’ de- 
manded a young American named McLaurin, who 
was himself a splendid singer. 

“ Begin yourself, McLaurin,” cried many voices. 
“ Sing ‘ Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled !’” 

“ I move we halt here on this beautiful hill 
overlooking yonder lake in the hollow, while Mac 
is giving his song,” proposed Mulcahy. 

“I second the motion,” spoke many together. 

Accordingly, on a knoll at a distance of about 
four miles east of St. Paul, the teams were' brought 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


283 


to a stand, and as on the summit of the knoll there 
was a space of about half an acre cleared of trees 
and stumps, most likely the site of an Indian camp 
in former times, the wagons were formed into a 
circle with the centre one containing the singers. 
This was the most elevated of the mounds or hills 
for miles around. There were scores of other 
smaller hills visible from its summit, and surround— 
ing it like satellites, each diminishing in size till they 
reached the edge of the lake, where the little hills 
were not much larger than the constructions of the- 
muskrats. Besides this remarkable gradation in. 
the size of the knolls, each of them,was crowned 
by bushes or trees of different species, or of vary- 
ing color of foliage, owing to the soil or reflection 
of light which rendered the scene one of extraor- 
dinary beauty, very elevating to the imagination of 
the beholder. Some of the little hills were crowned 
by a cluster of dark pines, some had tufts of dark- 
green and trembling poplars, some were burdened 
by a heavy growth of gnarled black-oak, some 
adorned by the rich, soft, luxuriant tress-like foli- 
age of the Querais alba., white oak, while the bur-oak, 
the ■ witch hazel,' the sumac, the wild plum, and 
even the turmeric, adorned the lesser and lower 
knolls near the lake shore. 

The spirited lyric of Robert Burns, “ Scots wha 
hae’' was sung in a very superior style on this’charm- 
ing spot, and re-echoed from a hundred surround- 
ing hills, by McLaurin, who was encored again and 


284 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


again, and ended by giving “Ye Banks and Braes 
o’ Bonnie Boon,” and “Annie Laurie.’’ 

Mulcahy and Haley were next severally called 
on for songs, whereupon the former gave “The 
Harp that once through'Tara’s Halls,” and 

“ By that Lake whose gloomy shore. 

Skylark never warbled o’er ; 

Where the cliff hangs high and steep. 

Young St. Keven stole to sleep.” 

• Both, we need scarcely mention, from Moore’s 
immortal melodies. Mr. Haley sung “ The wearing 
of the green,” and also lines written by himself, on 
a late visit of his to Ireland, two years ago, on an 
unfortunate Fenian mission, which lines, as they 
are, of course, original, and to afford an idea of the 
qualifications of one of the characters of this story, 
we here give entire : 


AN EXILE’S FAREWELL TO HIS NATIVE LAND. 

Farewell to you, old Ireland, 

I’ll visit you no more, 

I gladly quit thy trampled soil. 

For America’s free shore. 

• Thy smiling vales, and crystal streams. 

And fields of emerald green. 

No longer thrill thy exile’s heart. 

Since to the British Queen, 

Thy dastard sons, by tyrant lords, 

And slavish priests bow’d down. 

Profanely pay that homage due. 

To no foreign throne or crown. 


i 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


285 


I’d sooner as an exile seek, 

A home ’mid Afric’s sands, 

Than come back again to view the woes, 
Of this most opjpress’d of lands. 

They spoke to me of improvement 
Among the peasantry,. 

What that means in Saxon phrase, 

I plainly now can see. 

The tyrant lord no longer fears 
The peasant’s fiery glance, . - 
And Irishmen no longer aid 
Expect from Spain or France, 

All Celtic games, and sports, and plays. 
Are out of fashion grown. 

And scarcely one the O’ or Mac, 

Is bold enough to own. 

O, I’d sooner spend my weary days, 

In Indian camp or wood. 

Than come back to this improvement 
The Saxon calls so good. 

Whole villages in ruins left. 

The only record keep, • 

Of myriads of human beings 
Displaced by flocks of sheep. 

Two million mouths, by famine shut, 

. Have ceased to ciy for bread. 

While landlords, like hyenas, 

Dig up the murdered dead. 

With blasphemous assurance. 

They even raise their hands 
To thank the Lord for this clearance 
Of their valuable lands. 

O, save me from this ‘ improvement’ 
That pervades the Emerald Isle, 

And rather than again to see it. 

Let me die a sad exile. 


286 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Then, farewell to you, old Ireland, 

Land of my nativity, 

Tho’ loving well I must resign thee 
For that of liberty. 

Where no tyrant lordling dare invade 
The threshold of my home. 

And free as wind o’er field and flood. 

To fish, and hunt I roam ; 

Where no church by law established 
My conscience can annoy. 

And all the rights of man untrammeled, 

I freely can enjoy. 

O, no earthly gifts shall tempt me. 

In whatever clime I roam. 

For a moment to forget thee. 

My own Northwestern home ! 

Loud and long applause, in which even the 
Methodist preachers heartily joined, greeted this 
rude but spirited ode of Mr. Haley’s own composi- 
tion with sincere approbation. These songs had 
the effect of restoring the company "to very good 
humor, and even on the sour face of Elder Fribbler, 
a smile, like a beam of sunshine through the chink 
of the wall of a dungeon, began to play, especially 
after he seconded the motion of Elder Bull that, as 
it was far advanced towards noon, and as they left 
home so early, they should all open their baskets 
and take lunch. 

Then hitching their horses to the trunks of the 
trees on each side of the road, the party alighted, 
and retiring a little further from the highway, they 
all partook with evident appetite of the food, con- 
sisting of cold chicken, ham, smoked beef, pickled 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


287 

tongue, roast turkey, cake, pie, tea, lemonade, 
wines, and all manner of baked meats and confec- 
tionery which generally forms the staple, always in 
great abundance, at American picnic parties, as they 
are called. And here it may not be out of place 
to remark that as there is no country in the world 
where the necessaries and luxuries of life are as 
abundant and so generally within the reach of all 
men, as in the United States, so also, there are no 
people on earth, nor have we any record of any 
people, so hospitable as the American people. It 
used to be the boast of Ireland, that a stranger 
could travel all over it, a journey of three or four 
days, without a penny in his pocket and never 
want a meal of victuals or a night’s lodgings. But 
more than this is true of America. A man may 
not have a doJar, and be reduced to ask charity, 
but even while a pauper and a beggar, he can sit 
down to as good a table as any man in the l^nd, if 
his poverty is not the result of his own guilt. 

In other countries the poor are, while they are 
reluctantly relieved, reminded of their poverty and 
their dependence on those who dole out to them 
their slim daily rations. But here, a man, if he is 
poor and compelled to make his poverty known, 
does not do so in the whining tone of a European 
beggar. But he demands his food as a right, and 
he is fed and clothed by his county, state or vil- 
lage, as if he were a pensioner of his country 
instead of a pauper. This is a juster title for an 


288 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


American citizen to b'e proud of than even the 
flags of her stars and stripes, tbat are done homage 
to on every sea, and victorious on every battle-field 
over which they are unfurled.- 



> 






CHAPTER XXIV. 

** Fusi per harbani Implentur veteris Bacchi pinguisque farinae” 

While all at ease o’er the soft grass recline, 

They had their fill of venison pies and home-made wine ! 

HEN the good things were abundantly- 
heaped • on the cloths spread to receive 
them, all Hurriedly proceeded to help them- 
selves, and for a while not a sound was 
heard except the clattering of dishes, the clinking 
of knives and forks, and the tinkling of glasses, and 
the popping reports of uncorking bottles. This 
last operation would have caused some trouble, for 
there was not a corkscrew in the parcels contain- 
ing the' viands, had it not been for Haley, who 
always carried one in his pocket since he was at 
college in Italy, where, on account of the abund- 
ance and. cheapness of- wine, a corkscrew was as 
indispensable to a man as a penknife. 

• ‘‘Give me you yet, Haley,” said professor Hos- 
key, who had tried his penknife and broken two 
forks in his vain efforts to get at the contents of a 
large bottle of old Temperance bitters which Miss 



290 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Spoones had handed him for himself and young 
Mulroony, alias P. M. Ronay. 

“ Neow you see, ladies and gents, this here 
Irishman beats us native Americans all to pieces 
in his ingenuity and thoughtfulness. While we 
came off without thinking of such an instrunient as 
a corkscrew, he carries one always in his pocket. 
Here Haley, take the first swaller out of this bottle. 
You deserve it, my boy.” 

“No, thank you, I never taste anything but 
the genuine juice of the grape.” 

“Why, man alive, this is better than any juice 
of the grape, for it was prepared and put up 
exclusively for us Sons of Temperance, some two 
years ago, by our accomplished and beautiful prin- 
cipal here. Miss Polly Spoones, was it not Miss?” 

“ Yes,” answered the talented young lady, 
“ but you made a mistake of three, years in its age. 
That wine was prepared by me some five years 
ago, and it is only on very rare occasions that 
mother allows me to have a bottle for my friends. 
I present that bottle to you and my best friend, 
Mr. Ronay. That is for you both alone.” - 

“Thanks, thanks, and unspeakable gratitude 
for your consideration. We shall keep it to our- 
selves, then. Come, Ronay, you happiest of men, 
oh, oh, it is delicious ; come, hug that bottle to 
your lips and take a long and a strong pull out of 
it. May we never want such glorious temperance 
beverages, ha ! ha ! haw ! ” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


291 


Indeed, it must be a good temperance drink 
Hoskey,” remarked Haley, “ for you are becoming 
eloquent under its inspiration. It reminds me of 
an old classical remark of the king of lyric poetry : 

‘ Quern non fecundi calices fecere disertum* 

From the inspiration of the foaming bowl, 

E’en a fool may catch some nobleness of soul. 

“ That’s glorious, Haley ; bully for you. I am 
sorry I am not like you, a classical scholar. But I 
don’t know that it makes much difference. I know 
a good many Latin roots, and as for the English 
branches from the highest problems of grammar to 
the concordances and theories of the higher mathe- 
matics, I am an A number one master of them, 
am I not. Miss Spoones ? Did I not carry off all the 
premiums of the first class, while in your academy ; 
am I not the most talented pupil you ever had, 
except our mutual friend, Ronay, here?” 

Loud laughter greeted this self-laudation of the 
professor, in which even the grave Miss Spoones had 
to grin for a moment. But, recovering her usual 
placidity she answered the professor by saying “ Yes 
indeed. Professor, ‘you were at the head of your 
class generally, and better than this, I must say you 
v/ere very obedient to rules, and a most accommo- 
dating pupil.” 

I will stand up to acknowledge my gratitude 
to your ladyship, Miss Spoones, for that compli- 
ment. I want words to thank you, and if you could 
read my heart, there you would find engraved upon 


292 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


its tablets in living letters, gratitude and fraternal 
love, for my most esteemed teacher, Miss Spoones. 
Let’s all drink her health. Fill your cups, ladies, 
and glasses, gentlemen, and drink Miss Spoones, the 
acomplished principal of the academy, ‘ hip, hip, 
hurrah,’ Miss Spoones.” 

Ain’t them nice temperance bitters, Haley?” 
remarked Riordan'. , Hang me if Hoskey is not 
half drunk, and there is Mulroony dozing with his 
eyes half closed. Oh, what hypocrites.’’ 

What matter, man ? Is not that their profesr 
sion, to be hypocrites and pretenders? proclaim- 
ing themselves temperance men, while they are 
quaffing bottles of bad colored whisky and setting 
themselves up for professors, while they talk of the 
Problems of Grammar. I allow, grammar is a prob- 
lem and a mystery to them, and the concordances 
of mathematics. What illigant academies, as an 
Irish peasant would say, there must be where such 
men as Hoskey and Monsieur Ronay can get diplo- 
mas for graduation. But, mark you, they know 
the roots, if not the brant hes, of the sciences. I am 
already sick of this company, and have a great mind 
to return back.” 

“Nonsense, man, we will have great fun before 
we return.’’ 

“ Hush, they will hear us. The Elder Bull is 
going to say something.” 

Cries of “Order, order, gentlemen; attention 
young ladies, while the Elder is speaking,’’ pro- 
ceeded from Miss Spoones. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


293 


Ladies, gentlemen and brethren, I respect you 
all, cordially. I hope you enjoy this day, and this 
delightful society among neighbors and friends, as 
much as I do. We are seeking for pleasure, and 
this is the end and aim of all mankind.. The young, 
the old, the healthy and feeble, the rich, the poor, 
all are in pursuit of pleasure, which is the great 
object of life here on earth. This delightful day 
affords us many sources of pleasure. We are cheer- 
ful, we are pleased, we are filled with good things, 
and by and by we shall enjoy other occasions of 
pleasure,, more varied and satisfactory, when we 
shall have arrived at the beautiful lake, which is to 
be the terminus of this excursion. Let us, there- 
fore, arise again and fall into line, and never halt 
again to-day, till we stand on the shores of Mine- 
tonka.’’ 

“ That’s the best speech, because it is brief, I 
ever heard the Elder make,” remarked Riordan. 

‘‘Yes, it was multum in parvo., but, it seems to 
me, it smacked not a little of epicureanism,” replied 
Haley. “ If pleasure, as 'he said, is the end and 
object of man’s existence, and all we do is done to 
reach that swnmiim bonum^ then away with your 
self-denial, abstinences, fasts, and penances. In 
fact, away with Christianity.’’ 

“ Well, I do not know if the Protestant sects 
profess this doctrine openly,” added Herbert, “ but 
practically, they all teach the same thing. They 
ridicule the idea of atoning for sin, or pleasing 


294 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


God by fasts, penances, or other austerities. They 
say God has no need of such things, and that 
austerities are rather offensive than pleasing to the 
Lord.” 

‘‘Well, gentlemen,” said Professor Hoskey, “I 
am as good a Catholic as any of you, descended 
from an old Catholic family, and yet I cannot see 
of what use fasts or penances are. I used to 
observe these things while father lived, but since 
I became my own master, I could not see it as he, 
the old man, did, and I gave all such things up ; 
they were very inconvenient, very, indeed.” 

“You a Catholic, Hoskey?” asked Riordan. 
“You know you are a Mason, and cannot continue 
a member of a Church that excommunicates you 
and your society.” 

“ You must be what we call in the old country 
a Rum Catholic.^ Hoskey, after refusing to accept 
the most essential parts of catholicity, namely, pen- 
ance, mortification, and self-denial. I never sus- 
pected you to be a Catholic before, seeing you eat- 
ing the pork and other meats this day, Wednesday 
in Ember week. Did you not know this was a fast 
day ? ” 

“ No, what could I know about it, who have 
not been in church for over three months, on 
account of that priest of yours at the Irish settle- 
ment pitching into secret societies ? I could not 
listen to him, not I.” 

“ Is not that his duty, Hoskey?” rejoined Rior- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


295 


dan. If the cap does not fit you, why do you 
wear it? ■ Are you not the scandal of the whole 
county by the way in which you run around from 
one meeting-house to another, to show your liber- 
ality, as it were, and to get yourself into office ? ” 

“ That’s not so, Riordan ; I say it’s not so,” 
said Hoskey, excitedly. “ I cannot take no such 
remark.” 

“ Then I am a liar,” rejoined Riordan. I will 
see you for these words before we return from 
Minetonka. Mind, be prepared.” 

Anywhere you wish, Riordan. I am ready to 
make good my words. I aint afraid of you, or no 
man.” 

‘‘ Be quiet, friends,’’ interposed Haley. “ The line 
is now formed, let each mount his proper vehicle. 
These holy men could not enjoy better sport than 
to see a duel between two so-called Catholics. Net 
a word more, advance.’’ 

Again the procession advanced at a brisk pace ; 
the band played ‘‘Old John Brown’s Body Lies 
Mouldering in the Tomb ; ” the broken, hilly countty 
was soon passed over, and a bird’s-eye view of the 
city of St. Paul, situated as it is in an elbow of the 
great father of waters, rose before the wondering 
gaze of the excursionists. There were few of the 
party who ever got a sight of the capital of Minne- 
sota, or of any other city, and hence the delight 
and astonishment with which they viewed this city 
built, or rather having its foundation laid, in the 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


296 

midst of a rugged wilderness, as if it owed its origin 
to enchantment, like the magic creations of the 
Arabian tales. It would seem as if the city was 
commenced before the site was determined on, and 
that spires of churches, palatial residences, expen- 
sive commercial structures, and commodious hotels, 
rose into imposing proportions, ere the streets 
were graded or the forests cleared off. Hence, 
from the principal street of the city, alive with the 
bustle of commerce, vast and reserche., you could, 
you would imagine, by one great leap, land your- 
self across the Mississippi, into a wild forest at the 
other side, the abode of hostile Indians or savage 
bears and wolves. There is no more striking 
instance of the rapid advancement of modern 
American civilization, for here the I'etreat of bar- 
barism and uncouth nature was too slow for the 
lightning speed of our material progress, and both 
antagonistic forces had to encamp, as it were, on 
the same ground. It is to these principles, so 
universal and so much in contrast, that St. Paul 
owes those striking peculiarities that render it 
unrivalled as an e:^ample of rapid improvement 
and a centre of so much scenic atraction. St. 
Paul has attractions for all sorts of people. The 
religious are attracted by its glorious name ; the 
feeble and infirm by the salubrity and purity of its 
climate ; the romantic, and those loving nature, by 
its scenery ; the learned by its Indian relics and tra- 
ditions j and all the world admire the liberality, 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


297 

hospitality and generosity of the citizens of this 
metropolis of the Northwest. 

Our excursionists, however, notwithstanding 
their desire to see its broad streets and places of 
interest, had to pass it by,^raversing merely its sub- 
urbs in their haste to reach their destination. Lake 
Minetonka, in good season. Having crossed the 
crest of the hill that covers St. Paul and cuts off 
its view from the level country west of it, the party 
accelerated its speed over the champaign before 
them, and without delaying to visit interesting local- 
ities, or stopping to admire new and pleasing scenery, 
they continued in a steady gait for about three 
hours, when the charming prospect of Lake Mine- 
tonka broke on their sight. At a first view from the 
shore it appears but of a very limited extent, but 
when surveyed from the upper deck of the steamer 
that disturbs, its transparent waters, or from the 
summit of one of the bluffs which overlook its 
expanse, it will be seen to be of very great extent, 
as well as the most beautiful lake in the Northwest. 
There was not a breath of air astir on the. evening 
of the arrival of our party, and all its surroundings, 
the islands, the bold .promontories, the trees of the 
forests, the atmosphere, the flocks of aquatic birds, 
swans, cranes, geese and ducks, nay, the very fish 
could be seen through this clear water, all, as well 
as the waters themselves, seemed to be asleep, oj 
enjoying a most remarkable and calm repose. Then 
again, the shadows of the cliffs and numerous islands 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


298 

were mirrored on the surface of the clear, cold ele- 
ment, and the various colors and shades, from the 
reflection of the light of the declining sun, added an 
indescribable charm to the ordinary beauties of this 
magnificent sheet of water. Astonishment border- 
ing on bewilderment at first held the spectators 
spell-bound and mute admirers of the ravish- 
ing scenery presented to their view. At length, 
Mr. Haley broke silence by remarking to his com- 
panions, “ ’Tis a charming and a bright scene, this 
lake and its scenery. It may be called the Killar- 
ney of the Northwest. I assure you, gentlemen,’’ 
he continued, there is more than one point of re- 
semblance between the two lakes. In the remark- 
able transparency of its water, in the number and 
size of. its islands, as well as the inspiration of its 
romantic scenery, your Minetonka reproduces 
many of the charms of Killarney. There is also, I 
understand, the deer, which is often seen swimming 
through its waves. All you want is the purple 
mountains such as Mangerton, the Eagle’s Nest, 
the old mediaeval castles, the elegant demesnes, and 
the hounds to hunt the deer, with echoes and music 
of an Irish bugler, and the witty Irish guides — if 
you had all these, your Minetonka would be a sec- 
ond Killarney.” 

“ Killarney, eh ? ” asked Elder Bull. ‘‘That is 
one of the lakes of Scotland or North Britain, is it 
not?” 

“ No sir. It is rather a lake in the south of 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


299 


Ireland, and now allowed on all hands to be the 
• most beautiful lake in Europe, superior to the lakes 
of Geneva, or Como, in Italy. I wonder at a man, 
of what we called one of the learned professions, not 
to be posted regarding the situation, at least, of 
Killarney.” 

The learned Elder did not hear, or pretended 
not to hear, the remark of the Irish schoolmaster, 
and as all were summoned to supper at one of the 
hotels at Wayzata, the entire party proceeded in 
a body to where it was prepared. 







CHAPTER XXV. 


THIS CHAPTER SHOWS THAT ELDER REDTOP IS STILL IN 
TROUBLE. 

^iljHILE the members of the academic insti- 
91 1 1 Brighton, including the faculty, 

trustees, the pupils and invited guests, 
were off to Lake Minetonka in pursuit of 
pleasure, religion, game, fish and fun, there was 
another excursion, which a gentleman we have 
too long neglected, made, not to the . country on 
pleasure but, to the city on business, and business, 
too, of vital importance to his welfare. This indi- 
vidual was no other than Elder Redtop, who, 
smarting under the general contempt into which 
he had fallen in public estimation, since his dis- 
graceful encounter with the medium, as well as 
.the coldness of his receptions at the family resi- 
dence of Miss Spoones, had resolved to make one 
more grand effort to secure the heart and fortune 
of his intended, let it cost what it would. “ I 
have lost considerable cash already,” he muttered 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


301 


to himself in soliloquy, “ in consulting clairvoyants 
and fortune-tellers in reference to this young lady, 
who, though she is the plague of my life, yet, I 
cannot be happy without her, and I will lose a 
few dollars more, though I earned it hard, 'or even 
my life I will sacrifice before I will see her the 
wife of that young Irish scamp, Ronay, on whom 
I am told she dotes. Confound and consarn the 
scoundrel, if he has a large farm, and is rich, and 
knows a little more nor me, what of that ? Am I 
not a minister of the Gospel, who was converted 
when I was fifteen years old, whereas my rival is a 
Papist, an idolater, and an Irish Catholic ! I cannot 
see what in tarnation has come across Polly, my 
Polly, to take a fancy to such a miserable cuss as 
this Ronay, or Mulrooney, as the Irish call him, 
when she could have me any day, a million times 
a better man, every way you take me, than that 
consarned Papist. But, the dogoned feller won’t 
have her as easy as he thinks ; I will disappoint 
him, you bet.” And after so. saying, 'exchanging 
his steel-gray frock coat for a white linen duster, 
and his heavy silk old-fashioned stovepipe hat for 
a light faded straw hat, he started on foot for the 
city. 

Elder Redtop, since he fell into disgrace in the 
neighborhood of Brighton, managed to make out a 
precarious livelihood by several agencies which he 
took on himself to manage. He was insurance 
agent for the Roaring River Mutual Insurance 


302 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Company, travelling agent for five sewing, and 
two knitting machines ; commissioner for nine 
different patent churns, and an indefinite number 
of hair renewers, toilet soaps, coloring and depil- 
atory washes for the hair, not to speak of an unfail- 
ing cement for mending old broken crockery, and 
a valuable recipe for making soft soap, which his 
own genius invented. He was a regular w^alking 
magazine, or bazaar of inventions, recipes, washes, 
anodynes, pain-killers, emulsions, dyes,^ cosmetics, 
patent implements, from a reaper to a fine needle 
threader, and remedies of all descriptions. If he 
had been crossed or baulked in one profession, 
mainly that of Evangelist, it was only to open the 
door of his ambition to a thousand others as pleas- 
ant, if not as lucrative, as the former. Like the 
fabled Hydra, when one head or source of gain was 
cut off, an indefinite number of other sources of 
equal gain sprung up, and the genius of Redtop 
turned them all to advantage. Besides these dif- 
ferent occupations, he never resigned his original 
profession of Preacher of the Gospel. Not at all. 
No secular business which he engaged in as yet, 
promised as much as this sacred calling. The time 
might come when something would offer, — for 
instance, a government office, — for which he would 
readily barter his calling as minister. But, up to 
this time, he considered the preaching business the 
best card in his hand. Hence, when he went out- 
side the range of the circulation of the unfavorable 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


303 


reports about him, in and around Brighton, he 
supplied., for other ministers, and preached with his 
usual unction and vim against popery or some 
other creed. His forte was preaching against some- 
thing ; he never considered it necessary to explain 
his own creed, or to recommend any moral maxim 
or practice, perhaps because he had none to recom- 
mend. He also held meetings in schoolhouses, 
and in private houses, in districts where there were 
no local preachers, and gave ou^ for apology for 
his following petty agencies, instead of his calling 
as a preacher, that his health failed, and the doctors 
recommended him to give up preaching for a time 
and to travel a good deal on foot in order to recover 
his former health. There was a good deal of 
sympathy manifested in his regard, by widows and 
old maids, and to the question always asked at his 
first introduction wherever he went, if he had “a 
wife and family,” he candidly answered, “ no, but 
that he was engaged to be married to an accom- 
plished young lady for years past, but who, it 
seemed, of late, manifested an inclination to back 
out from the engagement on account of the un- 
favorable change in his health and circumstances.” 

‘‘Shame, shame,” was the usual response to 
the minister’s melancholy tale, from widows and 
old maids. That heartless lady, they said, ought 
to be excommunicated, as the venerable John 
Wesley had excommunicated a lady who refused 
to be his wife one time in Georgia. 


304 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ Why did she not marry you first ? ’’ said a 
pious farmer’s wife ; ' “ and then, if your health 
would not mend, or you and she could not pull 
along together amicably, then ye might get di- 
vorced decently and honorably. That would be the 
way to do it.’’ 

Elder Redtop thought* so too, but whatever 
were his sentiments about the divorce business, 
with regard to the marriage (his marriage to Miss 
Polly Spoones), he was determined to accomplish 
that, let it cost what it would. Ay, if he had to 
sacrifice all he could make in five years by his 
numerous agencies, and he expected that would 
be a big pile, he was determined to wed Miss 
Spoones, and disappoint that Irish chap, Paran M. 
Ronay. 

With this end in view, he arrived at the city the 
same day that the excursionists reached Minetonka, 
and without going to a hotel, or taking any 
nourishment, not even a glass of small beer, or 
waiting to brush the dust off his hat, 'boots and 
pantaloons, he made his way to the well known 
den or shanty of Bill Skim, the famous colored 
fortune-teller. He found the ferocious-looking 
darkey enveloped in his greasy habiliments, and 
surrounded by his half-dozen cur-dogs, which were 
his only companions. They were all in a profound 
sleep, dogs and master, and never moved or 
barked till the pious Elder was within the mouth 
of the cave-like abode of those animals. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


305 


Upon his touching the colored brudder by his 
shoulder, to wake him up, the half-dozen canine 
little animals rushed at his reverence at once, and 
it was not without some difficulty that he saved 
himself from injury with his umbrella. When 
the old man woke up, however, a growl from him 
caused them all to be off. into a darker part of the 
den than where the'ir master gave audiences. 

Both parties recognized one another at a glance, 
for this was not the first time that they had met, 
and the colored man, placing on its legs an old 
cane-bottomed arm-chair, against the back of which 
he reclined over a dirty bit of carpet, invited his 
visitor to be seated, by saying in a voice of fierce 
gravity, “ Take a cheer, and be seated.” 

“ Thank you, I will, for I am tired after my 
smart walk* of eight or ten miles.” 

“ Why, you didn’t walk that much this morning, 
did you, eh 

“Yes, I did, and more too, for I made a circuit 
of some four miles out of my way to leave some of 
my magic hair-dye to Elder Squeakes’ lady, and 
some of my unfailing cement, for dishes and door 
knobs, at Mr. Simon Brooks.” 

“ Dear me, you are a great man for business. 
But you seem very troubled this morning, I per- 
ceive. Can I do anything for you, eh ? ” 

“ I hope you can help me a little. Is there 
anybody within hearing ? It’s on very private and 
delicate affairs I come to see you to-day. Bilk” 


3o6 


PROFIT A ND LOSS. 


‘‘ I know it. Before you kim in, reverence, I 
seed you in my dreams. I read your heart. Did 
you not find me in a snooze, eh ? I can tell you 
all about it. It’s a tender subject, a love affair, is 
it not, eh ? ha ! ha ! ha ! ” grinned the negro. 

“ Yes, but you did not tell me if there were any 
listeners who could hear us.” 

“ Bress you, man, no, not one, only my dogs. 
These are my only family, and they don’t tell no 
tales. They are not gabby. No, not a word or 
even a bark will they utter when I look at ’em. 
The best trained curs in the ’orld. No tell-tales to 
them. They can wag tailsy but tell a tale, never ; 
he! he! he ! Now, boss, I hope you are satisfied.” 

“Yes, then I had best tell you the trouble I 
am in.” 

“ Oh, I know it. She is going to leave you, aint 
she?” 

“ Just let me explain. This young lady. Miss 
Spoones, and I have been engaged for years to be 
married. But she put off the wedding for one 
reason or another until now a young Irish fellow, 
who came to the neighborhood, I wish he had been 
shot first — ” 

“ Shot ? no, no, that’s too dangerous, make tOo 
loud a report. ^ Best give him a pill. Something 
to take him off quiet, do you mind, eh? I could 
fix it neat for you for a small sum.” 

“ Please do not interrupt me till I have explained 
all to you. .She has got this Irish lad in her eye 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


307 


now, and they say they are engaged. Could you 
not prepare a powder to cause her to change her 
mind ? or if I sent her here to you, give her 
such advice and warning against that Irish lad as 
would cause her to give him up and have me ? ’’ 

“ Oh, I see now what you are after. I can do 
the very thing you ask to a T. But afore we pro- 
ceed any farther please deposit my consulting fee 
of one dollar, and then we can talk about business. 
I have a bottle here filled of spiritualist water, that 
never lessens, or dries up, or gets riley, and when I 
look through that water in the bottle, (that water 
came from Africa, brought by my grandfather who 
was a slave to General Washington,) do you mind 
that, I look into that bottle. I can tell all future 
things, every one. Indeed I can.’’ 

“ Here is your dollar. Bill Skim,” replied Redtop, 
.‘‘and there are many more bills, five times its 
amount in this pocket-book, a part of which will 
be yours if you do the fair thing with me.” 

“Fair thing, eh? Why I’s the fairest critter 
in the ’orld. No man fairer. One of them dogs 
there is not honester nor fairer, nor surer, nor 
straighter than Bill Skim. Thank you, master, for 
your money. Now open your mind, and I’m the 
man to relieve you ebery way you can be reliebed. 
Ain’t this honest, eh ? ” 

“Yes. This is what I want you to do next. 
When my sweetheart. Miss Spoones, comes here, 
she may come in disguise, not willing to tell her 


3o8 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


name for fear of exposure. But you can know her 
by a slight , cock or squint in her left eye, but that 
does not hurt her beauty not a mite. She is as 
fair as Juno. You tell her that *the fates have 
decreed . her to be my wife. Warn her against a 
young fellow whom she now admires. Describe me 
to her ; I hope you won’t forget my appearance. 
Take a good look at me.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! oh no, boss, I can describe you to a 
liqe. . No mistaking your noble phiz. Never saw 
a nobler face ! Then there is your hair, so like 
gold, and your eyebrows too, then your lips, nose 
and mouth. Can’t forget you, boss, ha, ha, ha.” 

“Well, tell the young lady all things good 
about me, and make her give up that young fel- 
low. I fear it won’t be any easy job to do, for 
they are off together to an excursion just now, 
and never invited me. Who knows what may 
happen before they get back. They may get 
married.’’ 

“ Never fear. I shall do all this. You send 
me the lady and if I don’t purvert her against 
that young fellow, never give Bill Skim a dollar 
again. I shall do it ; I shall do it sure.”’ 

“ You think you can, do you ? Well then, here 
is another dollar for your trouble, and if you suc- 
ceed, I shall make it a V, a five dollar bill. Indeed 
I will, and more too. Now you understand me.” 

“Indeed I do, perfectly. I shall do all you 
say, and more. Now let me look again into my 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


309 


bottle, oh, I tell you, boss, you are the happy man ; 
you will have that lady for a wife, shall raise a 
family by her, she shall die, and you shall live 
to enjoy all the property, and marry again, a 
rich widow, so that you shall be a very rich 
man.” 

“ Shall I continue at preaching all the time ? ” 

“No, sir. You shall give up that profession, 
become a farmer first, then a merchant, and after 
that a manufacturer, till you become awful 
wealthy. Don’t you believe me, eh ? ” 

“Well, I do, or would be anxious to believe 
all that you say, for I think I have capacity for all 
this luck you point out for me. And my own 
ideas run in the same channel you predict for me. 
I know you can tell the future if you have a mind 
to. You told me some truth which all came to 
pass, before, and when Squire Muggins lost his 
horses you told him where they would be found, 
they were.” 

“ Yes, I never tells nofing but the real truth. 
I can’t tell no lies, no more than the dogs can tat- 
tle. I only speaks what the Lor’ shows me 
through this ere bottle, that’s all, indeed.” 

“ It must be a wonderful bottle, that’s sure. 
Could I know future things if I got a look at it, or 
what would you take to let me look and see with 
my own eyes this good fortune you promise 
me? ” 

“ Bress your heart, Massa, you could not see 


310 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


nofing. No, not a stem. Besides, you may lose 
your eyesight, never to get it back. This bottle is 
of no use ’cept to those who are in the mysteries 
of Voodooism, of which I am head man in the Nor’ 
country.’’ 

“ Oh, that’s it, eh ? Then, if there was any 
danger to my eyes (for mine are pretty good ones), 
I would not want to look through it, by no means. 
No, I believe I have no more to ask you, but keep 
the main thing, in view. Bring things about so 
that I may visit you again rejoicing. Good day, 
friend.” 

Leave that to me. Good day,’’ returned the 
colored man as he left, and then winking at his 
cur-dogs, the squad of them set up such a barking, 
grinning, snarling and bow-wowing as to make it 
impossible for the Elder to hear the fit of roaring 
laughter into which the negro fell immediately 
after he turned his back on his den. ‘‘By the 
throne of Mumbp Jumbo,” he said, “these white 
men, and especially the religious portion of them, 
are the biggest fools in creation. They come to 
consult me into this stinking hole for knowledge, 
while they themselves, pretend to know all things. 
They pretend to teach the way to heaven, and yet 
they can’t take one step in the affairs of life with- 
out making the shabbiest blunders in the world. 
But what cares Bill Skim ? Has he not his bag of 
shining silver, getting daily heavier and heavier, 
and though he pretends to be a beggar, as he pre- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


31I 

tends to know of the future, will he not be able to 
return to Africa, and set up there for King, where, 
perhaps, white men will come to pay him homage, 
ha ! ha ! ha ! Oh, what a glorious time we shall 
have of it, when we shall drive out in a carriage 
with white servants in livery to attend us. Come, 
my curs, guard this shanty till I return, for I am 
dry and must have some beer, to drink that pious 
Elder’s health.” 

The cur-dogs assumed their usual places, and 
there was ho fear while under their guard, that 
any person would dare to invade his threshold till 
his return with his keg of ale. Scenes like those 
described above are such as have occurred, and do 
daily occur, in very many places in the United 
States. There is not a city, nor scarcely a village, 
without its male or female fortune-tellers, white or 
black, and their reception-rooms are generally very 
liberally patronized by people who profess to be 
far ahead in knowledge and enlightenment of those 
numerous pretenders to the gift of foresight, or in 
the knowledge of futurity. And not only are 
such seers numerous, and wejl-patronized by all 
classes of the community, but the acquisition of 
.wealth and independence by such barefaced imposi- 
tion, is not counted disgraceful, nor are those who 
succeed in accumulating fortunes thereby,- cut off 
or banned from the intercourse of what may be 
called respectable society. Instance the case of 
Miss Skinner. 


312 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Who can be more popular in the community 
and in the higher political circles in Washington 
and New York, than Miss Tennie C. Claflin and 
Victoria Woodhull, who aim at the office of 'Pres- 
ident of the United States, (and if matters con- 
tinue as they have for a dozen years past, they 
will get these offices). And yet they were both of 
them for years common fortune-tellers, who earned 
their iniquitous wages by an imposition not a bit 
more respectable than the way Bill Skim earned 
his wages. 

Those ex-fortune-tellers are now bankers in New 
York, and their money offices are daily crowded 
by merchant princes from all the principal cities, 
desiring to be honored by holding commercial 
relations, at least, with those ex-fortune-tellers and 
seeming female impostors. Why should we cen- 
sure the ignorant black man, the brown gypsy, the- 
red Indian, or the cream-colored Asiatic, for the 
practice of those arts of imposition and legerdemain, 
when we pardon the like tricks of the same nature, 
but carried on in a more wholesale scale, by mem- 
bers of our own advanced, enlightened and godly 
Anglo-Saxon race of people ? If Bill Skim, sur- 
rounded by his half-dozen cur-dogs, so trained as 
to be ever ready to obey him, is an object of 
horror to us, in his filthy den in the purlieus of 
Frogtown, how much more ought we to abhor 
Miss Tennie C. Claflin, and her dozens of admi- 
rers, dancing attendance around her boudoirs. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


313 


with the subserviency of well-whipped spaniels ? 
Both artists are of the same profession, have the 
same end in view, namely, by deception and fraud, 
to make money ; they only differ in degree, and the 
difference. Such as it is, is in favor of the black man 
and his canine companions, and adverse to the 
clairvoyant fortune-tellers, bankers and millionaires, 
and their' patrons, associate retainers and admirers, 
et hoc genus omne. 



% 


/ 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

SECOND day’s amusements AT LAKE MINETONKA. 


HE weather was delightful during the time 
our excursionists remained at Minetonka, the 
continued and disagreeable wet period of the 
past two months giving place to a time of 
genial warmth and charming serenity of the atmos- 
phere, though the sun was most of the time over- 
clouded. There could be no more favorable weath- 
er for fishing and fowling, and accordingly, our 
Celtic portion of the excursionists imoroved the 
opportunity they enjoyed of catching quite a num- 
ber of splendid trout. Mulcahy, who was a Lim- 
erick man, had any quantity of artificial flies, and it 
was agreed among the disciples of Walton, accord- 
ing to the rules of genuine sportsmen, that nothing 
but flies should be used, and those on a single hair, 
or ‘‘gut,” to entice the finny denizens of the deep 
from their cool retreats beneath the waters. There 
were crowds of persons all over the lake, with nets, 
spears and clumsy baits, rapidly filling boats with 
23 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


315 


heaps of magnificent fishes, but our knot of Irish- 
Americans were scientific anglers, and disdained to 
haul in a single trout unless hooked “ secundum ar- 
temr They also fished from the shore, as more fa- 
vorable to the flies over the water, and affording the 
only chance of displaying the nicest part of the art 
of angling in working the hooked fish in such a 
manner as to render it a helpless captive at the feet 
of the angler, on the sandy beach. It is in the man- 
ner in which the fish is brought to shore, and not 
in the quantity that is killed of it, that the real pleas- 
ure of the innocent art of angling consists. When 
our anglers returned to camp on the evening of the 
first day’s fishing, they had on an average twenty- 
five large trout each, as the spoils of their victori- 
ous art. There were many other parties on the 
lake on boats and rafts who could show cartloads of 
fish as the fruit of their day’s labor, but such parties 
fished for gain ; to make money and not sport was 
the object they had in view, and their manner of 
taking the fish would render them in other commu- 
nities amenable to laws enacted against the wanton 
destruction of this interesting species of game. 

The quantity of fiish brought to camp, not with- 
out difficulty, from their weight, was sufficient to 
supply all the members of the excursion with 
wholesome food for several days, and accordingly 
under the cooking skill of “ Larry,’’ a raftman who 
made one of the party, fifteen or twenty large 
trout were soon prepared, cooked and ^placed on 


3i6 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the rustic board, over snow-white napkins and 
table-cloths, in the largest tent of our party. The 
subject of angling and its accomplishments formed 
the topic of general conversation, and all the science 
of artificial fly-making, single hair lines with ashen 
rods, and reels and rings to wind and pay out the 
lines, inhauling the hooked fish to dry land, had to 
be explained over and over again by Mulcahy. 
And as the young ladies were not satisfied with 
descriptions merely, without seeing the theory of 
the art illustrated by experiment — a general feeling 
among young American ladies on theoretical sub- 
jects — the entire party, after having refreshed them- 
selves with this delicious food, moved in a body to 
the lake shore to witness the practical performance 
of an art, the very description of which jcreated 
so much interest among the. entire party. 

Accordingly, Mulcahy, Hogan, and Haley, 
unwound their fishing rods, loosened their line 
reels, attached their flies, and flung them with a 
whistling noise over the calm surface of the waters. 
At the second cast of the line, Mulcahy hooked a 
large five pound trout, which, finding itself entan- 
gled in the barb, attempted to rush to the bottom, 
but the angler h^ld its head above the water, which 
it lashed furiously with its tail, creating quite a 
large bubble of foam, and disturbing the water in 
a large circle around an area of several hundred 
yards. 

There was lively excitement among the by- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


317 


standers, especially the female portion of them, 
some of them crying, ‘‘ Why don’t you haul him 
in?” others, “Oh, it’s cruel to keep the poor fish 
in pain so long,” while- some ran to seize the line 
to drag the fish to shore, saying, “Let me bring 
him in.” 

The angler, however, resisted all these unpro- 
fessional hints, and continued to play with the 
noble fish for about ten minutes, until he became 
exhausted, and was drawn with facility almost dead 
on the beach. • 

“ There was then quite a rush of persons among 
the girls anxious to seize on the prize, which was 
the- first they had ever seen caught in that scien- 
tific style. A Miss M’Clearen, however, a noble- 
looking Scotch girl, was fortunate in seizing and 
claiming the speckled prize. 

Hogan and Haley after a while succeeded in 
hooking very nice trout, so that, after a couple of 
•hours spent at this amusement, there were fish 
enough caught to last for a- week, if needed, and 
most of the young ladies had one -each. 

The hunters, or fowlers, as they should be 
called, had not as much success as the anglers, and 
consisted of Prof. Hoskey, McLauren, Mulrooney, 
alias Ronay, son of Elder Bull, called Spike, and 
half-a-dozen other young .men from the village. 
They shot and wounded a aeer, but failed to come 
up with her, owing to the want of dogs, but they 
succeeded in shooting some fine ducks, a few wild 


318 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


geese, and a splendid swan. These specimens of 
their skill, however, were more for ornament than 
use, as the season had not yet arrived for these 
birds to be fit for use on the table. There was one 
thing which the hunters brought back, which they 
had not on their departure, and that was a sharp 
appetite, which soon ma'nifested its voracity on the 
quantity of fish, cake, home-made wine, and other 
beverages, which disappeared before them. 

Professor Hoskey w^as especially eloquent in 
praise of this “ almighty fine fish,” which he pitched 
into in gigantic style, and washed down with a 
couple of bottles of the old currant of Miss Spoones. 
Ronay, alias Mulrooney, was more of a silent 
worker than the frothy professor, but did fair jus- 
tice to the good things which his mtejided set 
before him. 

“ I never did see such splendid fish. I was 
often at the Lake Como, near St. Paul, and even 
went once to the famous Kennikenic, all the way 
over , at the other side of Wisconsin,” said Hoskey, 
“ but this appears to be ahead of all creation for 
trout. What sort of bait did you ketch those fish 
with, gents?’’ he added, addressing Mulcahy and 
his fellow-anglers. 

“ We did not use baits at all.” 

“ What ! you didn’t use no baits, you don’t tell 
me?” 

‘‘No, I don’t tell you we didnt use no baits ; 
but I said I used no baits,” replied Mulcahy with 
emphasis on the two negatives. 


PROFIT AND- LOSS. 


319 


“ Well then, what else did you use ? You don’t 
say you caught them with the bare hook, do 
you ? ” 

“ No, I don’t say that either. I used a fly in 
catching these fish.” 

fly? that’s more nor I ever heard afore. 
Where did you get the flies, or how did you catch 
them to put on the hook ? ” 

“ I. used artificial flies. Did you ever see fish- 
ing-flies? There are a few,” he said, opening his 
pocket-book, which was literally lined with very 
beautifully constructed flies of all sizes, from that 
of a humming bird, to be put on for a salmon, to a 
midge., and of all shades and colors, the beautiful 
manufacture of his own skilful hands. 

“ Why, where in the world did you get all 
these natural curiosities ?’’ asked the professor. 

“ I made them with my own hands. You see 
the manner in which I let my nails grow in order 
that I could handle such delicate materials,” he 
said, exhibiting his finger nails, all delicately formed 
to sharp points, and capable of handling the fine 
material of silk, down, feathers, and delicate, hairs, 
that go to form the perfect fishing-fly. 

“ Really that is a nice art,” said Elder Bull. 

I did not think they were so ingenious in the old- 
country as to be able so perfectly to counterfeit 
the natural fly.” 

“ Yes, they are, though rather backward in 
other arts, — for example, in counterfeiting a bank 


320 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


note, — adepts in the more innocent art of counter- 
feiting flies, as you call it, so as to deceive fishes. 
I believe my countrymen have not yet progressed 
so far as to make base currency pass for the genu- 
ine.” 

Indeed it must be allowed that they are a non- 
progressive people, your countrymen. The people 
are backward in education, are they not? — Jiave 
no schools, or only a few. Does not the Romanr 
Church influence the people in that backwardness 
by discouraging popular education, eh ? ” 

‘^You labor under a very erroneous impression. 
Elder, in two points. Firstly, the Irish are not 
backward, but very forward in education, according 
to the opportunities they have had since they have 
been allowed schools at all. I allow they have not 
yet advanced as so many of our adopted country 
people here have ; they have not. been able to make 
counterfeit bank notes. But in all the legitimate 
branches of education, in medicine, law, and the 
pulpit, and bar, who can compete with our men at 
home? We have old Cullen, of Edinburgh, an 
Irishman, the Father of English medical science, 
Churchill, and Sir Robert Kane, in medicine; 
O’Connell, Curran, Grattan, Sheridan, and Burke, 
as orators and statesmen ; Dr. Doylej O’Leary 
Kearny, and Cahill, in the pulpit, while, according 
to the London Lancet.^ there are more successful 
candidates at the Government examinations for 
situations in the army and navy, from Ireland, by 
far, than from England, Wales and Scotland.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


321 


Indeed ! I confess I am not well posted on 
this matter, and only take my data from our relig- 
ious press.’’ 

These are very uncertain sources of knowl- 
edge— 

“ Errors like straws upon the surface flow, 

Those who would find pearls must dive below/* 

said the poet. 

‘‘ I perceive, Elder,” continued Haley, that 
you are not well posted. Hence, if I were in your 
shoes, I would not be so apt to make assertions 
when I was not sure of my data. You talk of this 
great country being ahead of all others in the 
inventive genius of her citizens. I allow that there 
is a good deal of energetic talent displayed by 
rnany of our citizens. But don’t you think much 
of this is imitative and borrowed from natives of 
other countries? Fulton, who set the first steam- 
boat afloat on your rivers ; Ericsson, who taught 
you how to construct floating batteries ; Gordon 
Bennett, who showed you how to make newspapers, 
and General Jackson, who taught .you how to whip 
the English without foreign aid. All these, and 
many more I could name, derived their genius and 
origin from those old countries you despise.” 

“ Oh, I guess not, the steam and the telegraph 
belong to our countrymen for sure. Don’t you 
fall into a slight mistake in' what you say?” 

“ I doubt very much, or rather I am positive, 
that all belonging to telegraphy, except, perhaps, the 


322 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


poles, that is to say electricity and the properties 
of the magnet were known centuries before Franklin 
sent up his kite, or Morse stretched a yard of wire. 
And as for the power of steam, that was probably 
known to the ancient Romans, who, we have proof; 
had news of a battle fought and gained, at a dis- 
tance of fifteen hundred miles, an hour after it was 
fought. Do you think they had not some rapid 
manner of communicating to and from the armies ? 
We. know that Archimedes was able to lift up 
into the air and destroy the heavy transports of 
the Roman General in the Bay of Syracuse in 
Sicily. Do you suppose he was ignorant of the 
force of steam, or that any of the forces of nature 
now in use, as utilized by mechanism, were secrets 
to his transcendent genius ? 

^"The ancients excelled the moderns in poetry, 
mathematics, architecture, music, painting, statu- 
ary and philosophy ; for the world will never know 
a second Aristotle. Do you suppose they were 
behind us in the mechanical arts ? I allow that, in 
two great inventions, perhaps, our country carries 
off the palm, namely, in the sewing and knitting 
machines ! But, in the old times, they used not to 
wear any stockings, and but a few of them wore 
breeches ; so they did not need those useful mod- 
ern inventions. In bringing to perfection sartorial 
machines, as well as in perfecting machines for 
making wooden nutmegs, I confess,” he added 
jocosely, “Yankee genius can carry off the prizes 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


323 


at all the industrial fairs in the world. In this 
sense I confess we of Ireland are backward and 
behind the age.’’ 

“To the point, to the point,” interrupted young 
Ronay, alias Mulroony, who was on fire to have his 
say in the amusing argument between Haley and 
the Elder. “As I understand the discussion, it 
stands thus : The Elder stated that the old coun- 
try was behind the age in education, not alone in 
the rear as regards inventions, but in book learn- 
ing, newspapers, lack of schools, and other eviden- 
ces of enlightened progress, while Mr. Haley main- 
tains the contrary to be the fact. Well, is there 
any need of argument to establish the almost self- 
evidence of the Elders proposition ? A few sta- 
tistics are sufficient to show the facts against the 
old country, and especially Ireland. Are there not 
hundreds of daily newspapers in the United States, 
and is not the circulation of oi)e of them, the Her- 
ald., Times, ox Tribune, more than that of all the 
papers in Ireland put together?” Applause from 
the ladies greeted this first forcible speech of young 
Ronay. 

“Allow me to interrupt .you,” rejoined Haley; 
“ your argument is plausible, but proves too much. 
Do you forget that the population of these United 
States is eight times that of Ireland ? How then 
could there be as many newspapers read in the one 
country as in the other? But you are incorrect 
in stating the point at issue. I did not say that 


324 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


there were as many newspapers, books or schools 
in the old country as there are here, even among an 
equal population. But I said, and stick to it, that- 
the Irish people are not uneducated. I don’t care 
about the number of books or newspapers. Lit- 
erature would not lose much, if all the books print- 
ed in English in the last three hundred years were 
burned. We have too many worthless books, too 
many badly-conducted papers. If all the books in 
the world, except Homer, the Bible, Shakespeare 
and St. Thomas, met the fate of the Alexandrian 
library, I do not think poetry, religion or philosophy 
would suffer an irreparable loss. As for eloquence, 
that does not depend on book learning, for some 
of the most eloquent speeches ever delivered were 
uttered by men ignorant of letters. The Irish 
people, even when they could not have school, — for 
schoolmaster and traitor were synonyrnous terms 
in English Protestant penal- laws, — still had educa- 
tion. They learned their prayers by rote. They 
studied, and. resolved the difficult problems, of al- 
legiance to God and fidelity to their religion, and 
to follow their convictions oh these essential points 
they sacrificed life, property and position, and book 
learning, if you will. But, in their heroic sacrifices, 
preferring eternal to temporal, truth to error, and 
God to Mammon, they left their children and the 
world an example of education which it would be 
well if^the people of our times would imitate, and 
to despise or depreciate which betrays not only a 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


325 

want of education, but a sad want of intelligence. 
Talk of comparing a man who invented a sewing 
machine or a patent churn, with a man who gave 
up all his estate, his property and his life, rather 
than become an apostate to God or a traitor to his 
conscience ; this is more absurd and ridiculous 
than to compare that rude log meeting-house yon- 
der in the grove, erected by a few Norwegian peas- 
ants, to St.. Peter’s at Rome, completed under the 
unrivalled superintendence of Michael Angelo.’’ 

These rarhbling remarks of Haley were well re- 
ceived by the crowd, and ended in general applause, 
which showed that all were pleased as well as 
amused. As it was advanced in the evening, about 
nine o’clock, the excursionists divided, some going 
to the tents where the religious crowd, male and 
female, put up, and most of the- fishers and gunners 
going to .the hotel, where they had arranged for 
quarters during their trip. 

As they were moving along, Riordan congratu- 
lated Haley on his successful conducting of the ar- 
gument in defence of the old land against the Elder 
and Ronay. “ I arh sorry,’’ said Riordan, that you 
did not give Mulroony a harder hit, confound him ; 
why should he take part against you and his coun- 
try ; I could have knocked him down.” 

“ Don’t mind him ; leave him to me, I will watch 
that fellow and show him his academic skill won’t 
avail him when speaking against country or creed. 
I will let him be till I get him, like a big trout, en- 


326 _ PROFIT AND LOSS. 

tangled in the barb of my philosophical hook, and 
after making a splash and a splutter, I will land him 
high and dry on the sand.” 

“ Bravo, Haley! ” said Mulcahy, I am ‘Sorry I 
have not the gift of the gab, or I would help, but I 
fully believe you are a match for them all, single- 
handed.’' • 

Nabocklesh,” answered Haley. “Be careful, 
there are listeners at our heels. Nabocklesh, that’s 
the word.’’ 





CHAPTEE XXVII. 

CONVERSATIONS UNDER A TENT. 

third day our party spent at Lake Mine- 

I tonka turned out. to be wet and disagreeable. 
The morning was dark, the sun invisible, 
and the whole sky overcast with a thick 
covering of obscure clouds, from which now and 
then sparks of lightning issued, foreboding a vio- 
lent storm. 

The gay and joyous aspect that nature wore on 
every side, on water, land and, woods, for more than 
a week past, were now exchanged for that sad, 
demure and bluish haze, which covered everything 
at the approach of the violent convulsions that 
were coming on. Everything seemed to sympa- 
thize with the universal gloom which nature put 
on in homage to the presence of that power 

** That blights the forest with a word, 

And blasts the mightiest with a breath.” 

The cattle took shelter in sheds or under the 
shade of close woods. The birds interrupted the 

17 


328 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


melody with which they enlivened the groves. The 
water-fowls retired from the centre of the lake in- 
to the numerous creeks or sequestered bays that 
ran into the land in all directions. The very fish 
that erewhile gambolled in the water or leaped into 
the air to seize their prey, hid themselves in the 
deepest recesses of the lake. And even the stoiit- 
est-hearted men felt uneasy, became grave, thought- 
ful and anxious, probably from the thought that 
those thunderstorms give .rise to in the mind of. 
the great day and fearful convulsions that will pre- 
cede the final dissolution of the world we inhabit, 
and the coming of the Eternal Judge! Nobody, 
not even an unbeliever, can witness a thunderstorm 
without emotion more or less impressive, accord- 
ing to his sensibilities and sentiments of religion. 
Your wise and learned natural philosopher may talk 
of the electric fluid, and explain it all very fine, to 
his own satisfaction, but let a severe thunderstorm 
come on while he is alone on the face of a wide 
prairie, or let him see the gigantic oak of the forest 
struck and shivered into a thousand splinters by 
the red bolt from the clouds, and he will soon for- 
get all his philosophy, lose his assumed stoicism, 
and confess with his heart, if not his lips, that God 
alone is omnipotent. Hence, as far back as history 
carries us, or even fable, the greatest men — be they 
the heroes, warriors or sages of the Iliad, wise men 
of Greece and Rome, or sainted patriarchs of the 
Holy L^nd, from Sinai to Calvary — they all ac- 


'PROFIT AND LOSS, 


329 


knowledged arid believed that there was something 
sublime, impressive and mysterious and wonder- 
ful, as well as terrible, in the thunders and light- 
nings of Heaven. 

This statement is verified in numberless pas- 
sages of Holy Writ, especially in the 17th Psalm : 
‘‘And He made darkness His covert, his pavilion 
round about Him; dark waters in the clouds of the 
air; hail-and coals of fire ; and the Lord thundered 
from Heaven and the Highest gave his voice. And 
He sent forth His arrows and scattered them: He 
multiplied lightnings and humbled them.” 

. Nothing can convey to our feeble imaginations 
a more awful idea of the Supi;’eme Being than that 
He, and He alone, can wield the thunderbolts 
of Heaven, and hurl them, muttering His indigna- 
tion, through the skies, over the heads of guilty 
mortals. This warning voice from above, when no 
other voice can do it, often arouses the sinner to a 
consciousness of guilt, spoils the criminal enjoy- 
ment of the sensualist, and not unfrequently stays 
the man of evil design in the midst of his. daring 
attempts to rob innocence of its purity, or industry 
of its honest earnings. Instead of laughing at 
lightning, or pretending to despise the terrific 
grandeur of a thunderstorm, the sensible man 
ought to prepare to repent, and to be ready for 
that great day when the elements will melt and 
“ pass away with a great noise,” the earth shall be 
destroyed, and nothing of the work of man shall 


330 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


endure but virtue ! These were the sentiments of 
some, if not of all, on the occasion to which we 
allude on the ^hore of the beautiful Lake Mine- 
tonka. - 

All the excursionists remained in the tents, 
none daring to expose themselves to the torrents 
of rain that descended from the clouds as soon as 
the storm broke over the lake. Flash succeeded 
flash, and peal answered peal, reverberating and 
resounding in tones of harsh mutterings and angry 
groanings over hills, lakes, fields and forests. -The 
silence that pervaded the company was hardly 
broken till the storm abated, then each began, like 
soldiers after a battle, to tell how little he or she 
feared, but rather was pleased to witness, such a 
terrible storm. Some told how they were accus- 
tomed to spend sleepless nights watching the tracks 
of the lightning through the sky, while others told, 
of how they were caught on great prairies, on 
horseback, during a severe thunderstorm, when the 
animal they rode got blinded and stunned from 
the noise of the thunder and glare of the lightning. 
One man told how he was riding through a wood 
in a thunderstorm, and the lightning struck a tree, 
which feli on and killed the horse, and how he had 
to abandon the buggy and take refuge in the hol- 
low trunk of a tree, of which a bear disputed the 
possession with him. 

After most of the talkers of the company had 
had their say in illustrating the freaks of lightning. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


331 

our friend Riordan introduced his yarn about 
thunderstorms in the following manner: 

“ I was one of a party of excursionists to Lake 
Como, near St. Pkul, two years ago. It is a small 
but pretty lake, with fine hotel accommodations, 
as I suppose most of you know. Well, there was 
one long wagon containing twenty-four young 
ladies all in white, with green boughs and red 
sashes. Just as they came up, a fearful thun- 
der-storm came on, and as the wagon or vehicle 
was crossing that new road made across a small 
creek or bay of the lake, the bolt fell, the wagon 
was upset, and the twenty-four young ladies cast 
into the water, and — ” 

“ Drowned ? ” cried several persons. 

“ No, ladies and gentlemen, not drowned, but 
badly wet. Nobody hurt, no harm done, but some 
extra washing of muslin. Ha ! ha ! ha ! That was 
the most wonderful thunderbolt I eyer saw. It fell 
somewhere on or around the lake, and did no 
harm.” 

‘‘Bully for you, Nick,” was the response this 
yarn of Riordan’s met from the company. 

One of the young ladies next recounted an in- 
stance of the freaks of lightning, in which the steel 
ribs of her parasol and her skirt-hoops were melted 
like lead, though she escaped with a slight stun- 
ning. 

“ Hence,” said Miss Spoones, for it was she that 
first broke silence- among the girls, “ I shall always 


332 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


cling to the crinoline, and wear it in summer, at 
least, no matter how the fashions change, for I 
attribute the saving'of my life to the skirt-steel on 
that occasion.’’ 

“ I don’t blame you a bit. I should do the 
same if they saved my life,’’ said Miss McLauren. 
‘‘ I knew a young lady who was saved from being 
drowned in the Mississippi, by her skirts. They 
were made of waterproof material, and getting filled 
with air, acted like a balloon, and so she floated to 
the shore on Lake Pepin.” 

Good, good, for you Kate,” said Elder Bull ; 
“ yours is the best story, Miss McLaurin. . Now, 
ladies and gentlemen,” he continued, “as.it is likely 
to keep wet all day, had we not better have a relig- 
ious meeting, or introduce some more serious mat- 
ter for conversation than the relative value of hoop- 
skirts ? What says the company to a prayer-meet- 
ing? WouH not this be acceptable to all?’’ 

“ No, no. Let each say his own prayers,” 
answered several, among others Haley and Mc- 
Laurin. 

“ Well, then, let us have a friendly talk on relig- 
ious subjects.” 

“ It was agreed when we started,” rejoined Haley, 
“ that religion and politics should not be introduced, 
and I see no reason to rescind that arrangement,” 

“I won’t insist on those matters. But I want 
light, and would like to ask you, Mr. Haley, or such 
of your friends as don’t object, some few questions 
in regard to the belief of Catholics.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


333 


“ I have no objection to answer all your ques- 
tions, as far as I know how, if you really seek infor- 
mation, and eliminate discourtesy and insult, I 
am ever ready to give an account of my faith, and 
it 'is my duty to satisfy all sincere inquirers after 
light, as you call it, for the truth of what I be- 
lieve.” 

‘‘ That is very fair and liberal in you. Will you 
allow me to ask if you are not a Jesuit I thought 
you was.” 

‘ Me a Jesuit ? ” answered Haley in amazement. 

What on earth could, make you think so. I am 
nothing but a plain schoolmaster. I have not piety 
or education enough to be a Jesuit.” 

“Well, I will tell you. I perceived how ready 
you was to answer every question put to you and 
to explain everything in favor of your church, that 
I considered you must be a Jesuit, or at least 
educated by that sect of Christians.” 

“You are complimentary. Elder, to the Jesuits, • 
who are no sect or fraction of a sect, if not to me, 
in attributing my ready answers to the training of 
that celebrated teaching order. No, I not only am 
not a Jesuit, but I never frequent any of their 
schools, to my great regret. You must have a 
queer idea of a Jesuit, when you fancy such an 
undisciplined person as I. am could be one.” 

“ My idea of a Jesuit,” rejoined the Elder, “is 
that he is a man who can cause error to appear as 
truth, and truth error, and that he may embrace and 


334 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


profess any system, religion or opinions, in order 
to enforce his own views or carry out his ends.” 

Elder, I am sorry your ideas of a Jesuit are 
the very reverse -of true. A Jesuit is a man who 
tries to copy the life of J esus Christ as near as he 
can, and is not only ready, but has vowed, to sac- 
rifice everything — life, wealth, and the pursuit of 
happiness, for the greater glory of God. There is 
no duplicity, deceit or double dealing in this. St. 
Peter, St. Paul and the twelve apostles were Jes- 
uits, for they left all to follow Jesus.” 

“Well, now, I have been taught the reverse of 
this ever since I could read or spell. If you look 
into our standard dictionaries, you will find Jesuit 
there defined — for instance, in Webster — a crafty, 
cunning, deceitful person.” 

“ I know you will find such erroneous defi- 
nitions in Webster, and other Protestant lexicog- 
raphers, who find it to their interest to pander to 
the sectarian bigotry of the people and age among 
which they live. The Jesuit principles, however, 
are the very reverse of the popular Protestant 
opinions regarding them, I assure you. Their 
theologians teach, as the Church does, that evil 
cannot be done that good may follow, or in other 
words, a man would not be justified in committing 
the slightest sin for the greatest good to mankind, 
or the salvation of the whole world.” 

“ The very reverse is what is generally believed 
of the Jesuits.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


335 


I know it. That is what is popularly, if not 
generally, believed; hence the necessity for a 
man, for instance a preacher, to be well posted 
before he would hazard making any statement 
against the Order of Jesuits, or any other body of 
men, before satisfying himself, by inquiry and 
reading, that his statements were true. We 
should never go to the enemies of any class of men 
to learn what the principles of their opponents are. 
You would not be pleased if I should condemn 
all you Methodists as hyporcrites and libertines, 
because Horace Cooke, Dr. Huston, Moffatt, Dr. 
Lanahan and many more of your head ministers 
were convicted of such crimes ; or if I should assert 
that your preachers are removed annually, gener- 
ally, for fear they would be detected in too many 
of those acts of unchastity which the popular 
opinion generally impeaches them with. This 
would not be fair. Neither is it fair to accuse the 
Jesuits of duplicity or disloyalty, because one or 
two writers, calling themselves Jesuits, may have 
written books in which such principles may be 
found7 while in the rules and constitutions of the 
Jesuit Society, nothing but the purest morality 
and. scrupulous exactitude of discipline can be 
found, together with the most disinterested piety 
and charity.” 

“ I agree to what you have stated in regard to 
the injustice of condemning a class of men, or a 
religious denomination, for the shortcomings of a 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


336 

few professing to follow that denomination. But 
this is not my great objection to your church. I 
object to its creed, because it contains too much 
mystery. How simple our church is in her teach- 
ing. She receives any person who believes in 
Christ to her communion. I have assisted, and, I 
may say conducted, eighteen camp-meetings, and 
I never refused to in those who professed faith 
in Jesus.” 

“Well, then, at that rate, Catholics are good 
Methodists, for you cannot but allow that they be- 
lieve in Christ. Even Mohammedans could betaken 
in at yo\xx holy camp-meetings, for they, even, be- 
lieve in Christ. You object to mysteries? Mys- 
teries are revealed truths which we cannot compre- 
hend. You say there are too' many mysteries, or 
revealed truths. I regret that we have not many 
more revealed truths. I should like to know when 
the day of judgment will come. This is a truth, 
.but the time of its taking place has not been re- 
vealed. I should like to know if there are inhabi- 
tants in the sun, rnoon and stars, and what is their 
occupation, size and form. You see these are mat- 
ters beyond our comprehension, but, if they were 
mysteries, or ‘ revealed truths,’ we could, at least, 
believe something in regard to them, and have 
some idea of how these things are. 

“ Mr. Haley, I do not think you understand me 
exactly,” continued the Elder. “ What I mean is, 
that men ought not to be required to believe what 
they do not understand.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


337 


‘‘ Oh, is that it ? Do you understand all you 
profess to believe ? You believe there is but one 
Supreme Creator and Lord of Heaven and earth, 
and that there are three Divine Persons, each of 
whom is supreme, eternal, omnipresent and om- 
niscient.. You believe the Son of God, equal in all 
things to His Eternal Father, came down from 
Heaven, was born of the Immaculate Virgin, died 
on the Cross, and yet He was always present in 
Heaven, endowed with the Eternal Majesty, and 
was never absent from Heaven, for one moment. 
Do you understand these mysteries ? Indeed, I 
may ask you, leaving aside divine things, which 
are necessarily above our limited understandings, 
do you understand the nature of anything that you 
see or feel? You can't tell me what caused the 
storm that has passed over our heads, or what it 
was that made the lightning to cut such fantastic 
figures, as it flew from cloud to cloud, or from the 
heavens to the earth. You may tell me it is the 
electric fluid that caused all these phenomena. But, 
then, can you tell me what the electric fluid is? 
This is a mere name we give this natural mystery, 
but by no means defines its nature. The word sig- 
nifies, in Greek, amber ^ and the thing got this name 
from the fact that what we call electricity first dis- 
covered by friction with a piece of amber. What 
would be. thought of a man who did not believe in 
sending a telegraphic message, because he did not 
understand what electricity is? Would he not be 


338 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


laughed at as unwise? No less unwise and absurd 
do those act who refuse to* believe anything which 
they cannot understand.” 

“ This is a plausible Jesuitical argument, indeed, 
I allow. But there are some things so absurd that 
the mind cannot consent to them. One of.these is 
the Romish doctrine of Transubstantiation. What 
an absurdity that God should be contained in a lit- 
tle bit of bread, or rather a wafer.” 

Now, sir, there is nothing absurd in believing 
that God could be. in a bit of bread, though the 
Catholic creed says no such thing. But the ab- 
surdity and contradiction would be that there could 
be a bit of bread, or any other particle or portion 
of matter, or space. Jn all the extent of creation, 
where God is not present. Don’t you know, if there 
was any place where God is not^ then He would 
cease to be omnipresent ; one of His most essential 
attributes would be lost. Now the Catholic creed 
teaches, and teaches only, what Christ said, namely, 
that it was His body, and not bread, that He held 
in his hands, when He, after having consecrated it, 
gave it to His disciples. The Catholic Church does 
not teach that the bread contains Christ’s body (it 
is only Protestants who make that absurd state- 
ment), while the Church teaches it is Christ’s body 
alone that is there in the sacrament. Our Lord 
stated that what He held in His hands was His liv- 
ing body. He told the world that we must receive 
the body, in fact, eat it, to be saved. St. Paul tells 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


339 


the Christians, many years after, to beware of pro- 
faning Christ’s body present in the Eucharist, and 
that those who eat it unworthily, eat and drink 
their own damnation, if they are not pure, and they 
have not faith to discern the body of the Lord pres- 
ent under the similes of bread and wine ! Now this 
is all the Church teaches. There is nothing absurd 
in believing the words of Christ. There is nothing 
absurd in believing the words of St. Paul, delivered 
many years after Christ’s ascension. But it is ab- 
surdity and impiety for Protestants to say, when 
Christ says, ‘This is my body,’ ‘No, it is not, it is 
only a figure of your body,’ when St. Paul exhorts 
the people to examine themselves, and be ready to 
discern the body of the Lord. I repeat, the Meth- 
odists say ‘ no^ the body of Christ is not there, only 
a little bread. How, then, can we discern it?’ 
Hence, these pious roaring Christians, don’t insist 
on any examination, but are willing to take all men 
in who believe that Christ died for sinners. In- 
deed, I allow they do take men in, for they don’t 
study or understand the Scriptures. But, Elder, 
as the afternoon is now already advanced, and as 
the storm has abated, I must beg to discontinue 
to speak on these sacred subjects. I see the fish 
begin again to rise over the water, the birds begin 
to sing, and as this is to be our last day here, we 
had better return to our sports, leaving you Rever- 
end Elders and you pious lady disciples, to medi- 
tate on these topics we have been discussing in 
this cursory manner.” . 


340 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ I beg pardon, I want to say a word or two 
more, and I am done. The difficulty about transub- 
stantiation remains still. Some of our five senses, 
I allow, may be deceived in regard to some objects 
in nature that come before them, but I don’t know 
any instance where the whole five senses are mis- 
taken, except in this had-to-be-believed dogma of 
Romanism — transubstantiation.” 

Elder, you are mistaken again, I am sorry to 
tell you. There are many, very many things, in and 
around us, in which all the senses are deceived. 
For instance, take a pail of new milk, and examine 
it ; you don’t see, feel, smell, hear or taste butter in 
the milk, and yet there is always butter in the milk. 
Again, take a square yard of earth ; you don’t see, 
feel, hear, smell or taste wheat, corn or potatoes in 
the earth, and yet most assuredly the essence and 
elements of all these, and many more useful produc- 
tions, are in that square yard of earth, otherwise it 
would not yield wheat, oats, corn, potatoes, onions 
beets, apples, pears, and all the other innumerable 
fruits and vegetables that will derive their substance 
therefrom if the germ only of the several plants is 
planted in the earth. Again, take an anvil in a 
blacksmith’s .shop, nothing but ice can be colder. 
No heat in it. You can’t smell, feel, hear, taste or 
see arty heat in the anvil. Yet, hammer on it for a 
few minutes and it will ring, and soon become so 
hot as to burn your hand, if you lay it on. Th.e 
latent fire was in it all the time, unknown to the 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


341 


five senses, till the hammering brought it to the 
surface. There are countless things in the world 
which the five senses can be cognizant of, even with 
the addition of what may be called the sixth sense 
of Yankee cuteness, as well as the sacred mystery 
of transubstantiation, and notwithstanding the de- 
fect of the senses, these things have matter and 
form and reality as well as the things that do come 
under the cognizance of the senses. We have only 
to look around us to find these instances. No man 
can tell what life is, whether it consists in motion, 
heat, or other undiscovered principle, though every 
man is conscious that he lives and moves. Talk no 
more then, let us not, if not being willing to believe 
but what we understand. We understand so little, - 
that the most learned men excel the ignorant only 
in the consciousness of how little they know, or 
ever can know, when they contemplate the infinite 
number of subjects that must forever remain un- 
known outside the reach of the limited human intel- 
lect. I presume it is not the doctrine oftransubstan- 
tiation that staggers your faith, as much as the man- 
ner in which that miracle takes place. We have 
nothing to do with the how or the manner in which 
God performs this consoling miracle. All that we 
are required by faith to do is to believe the words 
of Christ, leaving to hirn alone the Divine power 
by which the change is effected. The Jews object- 
ed to our Lord, saying, ‘ How can this man give us 
his flesh to eat ? ’ 


342 PROFIT AMD LOSS. 

Are those not guilty of a like impiety who re- 
fuse to believe this mystery because they can’t see 
how it can happen ? But when we see mysteries 
all around us, the why and the wherefore of which 
we can never unravel, why should we invade the 
Divine province of Faith by trying to unravel 
what infinitely surpasses the human comprehen- 
sion.” 

This ended the conversation for the present 
between the Elder and the Irish school-master. 

The storm had passed over, and having partaken 
of a lunch, the whole party evacuated their tents, 
some to fish, some to hunt, and others to take a sail 
on the lake. Young Ronay, alias Mulroony, with 
/ his friend. Professor Hoskey, kept company with 
Miss ' Spoones and a few other young ladies who 
preferred walking bn the dry sandy beach to pick 
up curious shells and pebbles, to the more fatiguing 
exercises of angling, gunning or pulling of oars. 
They had a pleasant time of it together, comment- 
ing as they rather severely remarked on what they 
called the queer state of argument followed by 
Haley, in his conversation with the Elder. Both 
of the learned academicians, Ronay and Hoskey, 
were sorry they had not a chance to demolish the 
Irish teacher’s “ queer logic,’’ as they termed it. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 


A SHOOTING AFFAIR AT THE LAKE. 



IDN’T I tell ye, gentlemen, that some 
accident would happen those excursion- 
ists who left here the other morning for 
Lake Minetonka ? ” said Mr. Smylie, the 
commercial traveller, at the first-class hotel in the 
village of Brighton. 

“ What ■ accident happened, eh?’’ “Anybody 
hurt ? ” “ Did any of the wagons break down, or 

was anybody drowned in the lake ? ” “ What did 

happen ? Please tell at once ! ’’ asked several per- 
sons at the same time. 

“ One of the party got shot, that’s all that 
happened. But sure, that is enough for one excur- 
sion. It beats all, how a single one of these picnic 
excursions cannot take place without some dread- 
ful accident. The excursion before this, two girls 
fell overboard, or threw themselves into the lake 
from a barge and were drowned. The one before 
that, again, two roughs stabbed one another, and 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


344 

now there is a man shot, and little hopes of his 
recovery.” 

“ Why, you don’t say, Smylie,” interrupted Mr. 
Broadhead. ‘^Who is it got shot ? one of those 
foolish young men who carried their rifles, expect- 
ing to shoot deer, I bet ! ” 

“ No, it was young Ronay, who carried neither 
gun nor fishing-pole. Oh, he is dreadfully mangled 
about the face and head.” 

“You don’t say!” “How did you come to 
know it ? ” “ Have you seen him ?’’ asked several 

who sat at the breakfast-table. 

“ This morning, feeling very restless, about 
three o’clock, I got up and went out and sat under 
the piazza, when what should I see but one of the 
excursion wagons coming up at a brisk pace. I 
halted them, and asked what was the matter, when 
one of the young men — that medical student, Mul- 
cahy, I believe, is his name — told me that last 
evening, after the thunderstorm passed, they all 
left the tents for a last ramble on the lake shore, 
in different directions, some to hunt and some to 
fish, when — ” 

“ When he got shot, by his own piece acci- 
dentally discharging. I’ll bet,” interrupted one of 
the gentlemen, impatient to learn the facts. 

“ No, sir,” resumed the commercial traveller ; 
‘‘ but Ronay and _ Miss Spoones beihg alone, and 
resting on a rustic seat, under the shade of some 
white-oak trees, one of the hunters, as he states, 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


345 


mistaking them for deer, fired, and shot Ronay, 
wounding him, it is feared, mortally, in the head.” 

“Mistaking him for a deer, eh,” rejoined Mr. 
Broadhead, ironically. “ That’s all gammon. How 
on earth could anybody, with the use of his eyes, 
mistake a young lady and gentleman for deer? 
But you did not tell us who was guilty of this out- 
rage ? ” 

“You did not give me time. It was no other 
than Elder Bull’s son, the one they call ‘Spike,’ 
too, that fired the shot. You know he is a half- 
witted fellow, at best, and I fear he won’t suffer 
any penalty for his rash act.” 

“ We hear enough about his being a fool. He 
is more rogue than fool, that badly-raised young 
man. He has had a spite of long standing against 
that talented young man, Ronay, or Mulroony, as 
his countrymen call him ; and now he takes a cow- 
ardly advantage of one whom he dared not face 
in a fair stand-up fight. This is really devilish, so 
it is.” 

“ It is nothing short of it,” remarked Mr. Smith. 
“ If I should be on his jury, I would bring him in 
guilty of wilful murder ; indeed I would, if the 
facts be as you state them.” 

“So would I,” answered Broadhead; “and the 
young scamp must be put through, if there is jus- 
tice in Minnesota. Confound Spike. That young 
Irish-American was worth more than a ship-load of 
such cusses as he. Where have they carried the 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


346 

wounded man — home to his mother’s place ? Has 
he had any surgeon to see to him ? 

“ I guess not, yet, except the young man, 
Mulcahy, who is a graduate of a medical college in 
Ireland, though he does not practice in this coun- 
try. He told me that Ronay’s recovery was doubt- 
ful, especially since he lost so much blood before 
his companions came up to where he lay wounded, 
and insensible from loss of blood. This Mulcahy, 
however, knew enough to make pressure on the 
severed artery, till he got means of tying it, and 
then, by administering -stimulahts, recruited him so 
as to get him on a spring-wagon, and then they 
travelled in the cool night-air, so that they reached 
here before sunrise.” 

“ Well, well, well,” exclaimed old Mr. Branch, 
the banker. “ Every day brings .worse news than 
the day before.. I wonder what will happen next ? 
My son, George, was in the same class at school 
with that young man, Ronay, and speaks of him in 
the highest terms. He says he is a talented, smart, 
high-minded and honorable young man, though he 
is Irish.’’ 

“ Yes, he carried off all the premiums from them 
at school, and as he was likely to have the same 
success among the young ladies that he had in 
learning, they thought they would murder him. 
Too bad! too bad! ” exclaimed Broadhead. 

“ It may be done accidentally, gentlemen,” re- 
sumed Mr. Smylie, “ but it looks rather suspicious. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


347 


However, as there will be_ an investigation, and a 
jury pass judgment on the occurrence, it is not for 
us to prejudge the matter. But, take it at best, 
it is a shocking occurrence.” 

‘‘You did not tell us, Smylie, where they took 
him,” resumed Mr. Broad-head. “ I would Irke to 
go to see him, if they have not taken him home to 
the Irish settlement.” 

“ No, they have not. After halting, down at the 
drug-store, to get some bandages and other things 
needed, they drove the wounded young man down 
to widow Spoones’ mansion. His companions and 
countrymen wanted to take him home to his moth- 
er, but Miss Polly would not hear of it, and Dr. 
Blackman gave his opinion that carrying him any 
farther, over rough roads and under the heat of the 
sun, would do him. harm. So they carried him to 
the Spoones mansion, where he will be well cared 
for, no doubt.” 

“ That respectable family seems to have hard 
luck,” remarked Mr. Broadhead ; “ it's only little 
over a year since the old man, his father, was found 
dead on his bed, after a slight accident from getting 
overset in a snow-drift, and now, to have his only 
son, I believe, cut off so suddenly, it will break 
the old lady’s heart, sure enough.” 

“ There is one who won’t be sorry to hear of 
this accident, I know,” said Mr. Smith, the miller. 

“Whom* do you mean? Miss Muggins, who 
they say was almost crazy to get married to Ronay ? ” 
inquired Mr. Broadhead. 


348 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ Not at all. I don’t think you could get a 
woman so cruel-hearted as that, even though she 
did get slighted. Once a woman loves sincerely, 
she can never, I believe, altogether get rid of the 
sentiments to which she gives herself up.” 

“No, do you say?’’ interrupted Mr. Smylie ; 
“ you must know very little of womankind, Smith. 
You can’t have read Shakespeare, or you would 
learn that all hell cannot produce such a fiend as a 
woman whose passion is despised by man. I for- 
get the words of the. immortal dramatist, but that 
is the substance of what he says about woman’s 
rejected love. But, without going to poets or 
philosophers for evidence, we all know that while 
a good woman is a treasure of inestimable value, a 
low, ignorant and base woman is the greatest mon- 
ster in creation. Smith, I did not think you were 
such a novice in your experience of women.” 

“ I must allow that not being such a good-look- 
ing man as you, I am not such a favorite with the 
ladies, and of course my knowledge of the fair sex 
cannot compare with yours. I did not allude to a 
lady when I said I knew of one who would rejoice 
at having Ronay cut off. I meant his rival. Elder 
Redtop.” 

“ Oh, him, eh ? Who cares for what that sim- 
pleton may think. I am aware. that he tried to get 
Miss Spoones to marry him, but I don’t think that 
if there was not another man on the top of this 
broad earth, she would have him. No, no, she’s 
too proud for that, I’m sure.’’ 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


349 


I don’t know. The Elder is confident she is 
to be his wife. He says he has had some sort of an 
assurance from a fortune-teller that she is to be his 
wife for ^ure, and now when his rival is out of the 
way, there will be no impediment to his success.’’ 

That may be ; indeed, it is hard telling,” said 
Mr. Broadhead, “ without the gift of fortune-telling, 
what women will do. Let’s come over to Miss 
Spoones’ and see for ourselves, gentlemen, what 
damage has been done, and if there is any chance 
for the young man’s recovery.’’ 

The gentlemen all present, being eight or ten in 
number, proceeded in pairs to the Spoones man- 
sion, where they, saw for themselves the dreadful 
condition of the wounded young man, Ronay. 
There they found him on a sofa-bed in the back 
parlor, surrounded by two surgeons. Doctors Hewit 
and Jackson, who, after having placed the sufferer 
under the influence of chloroform, were trying to 
reduce the fractured jaw to something like its 
original shape. The ball entered near the angle 
of the lower jaw, shattering it dreadfully, and in its 
course taking away three molar and four of the 
incisor teeth ; it also cut the facial artery, a branch 
of the external carotid where it crosses the jaw 
before it divides into the submental and. submax- 
illary branches, It was the bleeding from this 
severed artery that nearly proved fatal , it 
being a pretty large vessel, sufficient to cause 
death by hemorrhage in about fifteen minutes. 


350 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


And had it not happened providentially that the 
Irish medical graduate of Queen’s College- was 
present, Mulroony would have breathed his last 
on the romantic shore, of Lake Minetonka. Now, 
however, the surgeons were hopeful of his recov- 
ery, especially since they learned from examina- 
tion that the bullet did not remain in his flesh, but 
after its ugly execution went whistling through 
the air until its energy was spent, or it encoun- 
tered something more solid than human flesh and 
bones to stop its destructive progress. 

After the shattered bones were, adjusted skill- 
fully, and the effects of the chloroform had ceased, 
the patient opened his eyes in a wild manner, and 
exclaimed, Oh mother, mother, forgive me this 
time, I will be good in future ! Oh, mother, do 
forgive me ! ” And then, closing his large dark 
eyes, he again relapsed into a disturbed repose. • 

Various opinions were expressed by the crowd 
assembled around the Spoones mansion regard- 
ing the melancholy occurrence. Some were for 
lynching the perpetrator, who, they said, had been 
heard often to threaten the wounded man’s life ; 
others, the friends of Elder Bull, protested that it 
was the result of the merest accident ; and re- 
ferred to several instances in which hunters had 
lately killed one another; in one case, it was a 
brother who had killed his brother; these parties 
tried to acquit the Elder’s son of all blame. 
There was one thing, however, militated against 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


351 


"the assassin, and that was, immediately after he 
saw Mulroony fall, he fled, nobody knew whither. 
And there were not wanting a few who felt the 
very reverse of sorrow for the. accident, and these 
few were Elder Redtop and his friends. 





CHAPTER XXTX. 

THE SAD NEWS IS BROUGHT TO HIS MOTHER AND THE PRIEST. 

AVING left their wounded young friend as 
comfortable as the most careful attendance 
could make him, Mulcahy, Haley and the 
remainder of the Irish-American excursion- 
ists proceeded in a body to the Irish settlement 
with the intention of acquainting his mother with 
the accident that had befallen her son. 

Some of the young men hesitated, being unwil- 
ling to be the first heralds of such sad news to his 
poor mother; but Mulcahy, Hogan and Haley main- 
tained against Riordan, Herbert and others, that 
duty required, not to speak of kindness, that the 
man’s mother should hear the news, however sad, 
as soon as possible. 

“What if he should die before his mother would 
reach his bedside?” said Mulcahy; “and if he 
should happen to die, you may depend that those 
bigots around his bed would be ready to make cap- 
ital out of the event, either by declaring that he 
died in the profession of their scurvy sects, or have 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


353 


a clandestine marriage performed between himself 
and Miss Polly, after the pattern of the Richard- 
son-McFarland affair, conducted by Mountebank 
Beecher, of Plymouth meeting-house fame.” 

“ Do you think, Mulcahy,” said Hogan, “ that - 
there is any danger of death ? You ought to know, 
and, if there is, two of us ought to go back and sit 
by his bedside till we see the end.” 

“Well, I don’t know. It’s hard telling what 
course the 'bullet took after the fracture of the lower 
jaw. If the ball passed through after its terrible 
execution, without remaining in his head, he will 
be all right. But if, as is very possible, it ascended 
and has lodged in the brain, or within the cranium, 

I would not give a pin for his chances of recov- 
ery.” 

“ Why, I don’t see how it could go into the 
cavity of the skull, for, after having shattered the 
jaw-bone, a straight line would have taken it out 
through the opposite jaw, or through his mouth.” 

“That’s true enough if the 'missile took a 
straight line in its course. But it is seldom that 
bullets do describe straight lines after entering the 
human body. I have seen a case, and more than 
one instance, where the ball, struck a man in the 
forehead, but instead of penetrating the bones 
went right around the head under the scalp, and 
came out in the very same aperture at which it 
entered, thus making a perfect circle around the 
wounded man’s head.” 


354 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


‘‘ Indeed ! I should think that would be impossi- 
ble. Did you really see _such a case as you de- 
scribe ? ” 

“Yes, I did, in more than half-a-dozen instances 
when I was in the hospital at Scutari, near Con- 
stantinople, during the Crimean war. When a ball 
strikes one, especially if its force is nearly spent, the 
least thing, a button, the head of a large pin, or a 
small bone, is sufficient to cause it to deflect its 
course, and often sends it in a direction the very 
opposite to which it entered. If I had instruments 
to probe- the wound of our young friend Mulroony, 
I could soon learn what became of the ball. But, 
as I had nothing of the kind, I thought it more 
prudent, after I staunched the wound, not to dis- 
turb it again until the professional men arrive from 
the city, who will attend to him and get their pay 
for it.” 

“I approve of your course, Mulcahy,” said 
Haley; “it is best to leave these cases to the pro- 
fessional men. If he died under your hands, you 
would be blamed, whereas if the doctors kill him, 
it will be done secundum artem, and then it will be 
all right. But how will we break the matter to 
his afflicted mother without causing her a shock 
that may end her life ? 

“We must appear as cheerful as possible, and 
tell her that he met with a very serious accident,” 
answered Riordan. 

“No, by George,” rejoined Mulcahy, “that 


355 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 

would be deception. Tell her he got shot, and 
that his wound is a very serious wound. She 
ought to be at his bedside, and the priest ought 
also to be sent for. This i*s the way to do, is it 
not, friends?’’ he asked impressively. 

“Yes, you are right, Mulcahy,’’ said they all. 
“ Let you be the one to acquaint the old lady, 
while we remain outside in the wagon.” 

“ I have no objection, but we had best all come 
in together. We can each put in a word where we 
think it is needed, to mitigate, if we can, the sever- 
ity of the dreadful news.” 

Accordingly, having deliberated on what they 
were to say and do, the young men, as soon as 
they arrived at the Mulroony homestead, hitched 
their panting teams to the posts at the gate, and 
entered the front door. 

“ Good morning, gentlemen,” said the matron, 
accosting them familiarly, as she was returning to 
the house with a large bouquet of flowers. “ Re- 
turning from. the camp-meeting so early, is it?” 

“ Returning from our first visit to Lake Mine- 
tonka. You must not call it camp-meeting. You 
know, ma’am, if anything of that kind was intended, 
we would not be here,’’ replied Mulcahy. 

“But had you not all the dominies and elders 
.there, and the pious old maids, and was^ there not 
plenty of prayers and psalm-singing, and of course 
some courting, or sparking, as they call it ? And 
what more could they have at camp-meeting?” 


356 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


‘‘ I allow there was a little of all those pious 
exercises, all except the last, or sparking, and if 
there was anything of that going on, our friend 
Nick here is the man to consult, for he is au fait 
in that branch of modern progress — ha ! ha ! ha ! ” 

“ That’s a cut for you, Mr. Riordan,’’ replied 
the old lady. “ Where did you leave my boy Pat ? 
Why is he not home with ye ? Seriously, Jack, 
has anything happened him?” she added, after 
observing the grave countenance of the young 
man.' 

‘‘Well, ma’am, I am sorry to have to tell you 
that your son met with an accident.’’ 

“ Oh God ! did he get drowned } Tell me the 
truth at once ! ’’ 

“ No, no, but he got wounded by the accidental 
discharge of a fowling-piece. He is not very 
dangerously wounded, I hope. Still, it is a serious 
wound.’’ 

“ Oh, Holy Virgin, help me, his heart-broken 
mother!” she exclaimed, and then she fainted, 
and became unconscious. 

It took but ten minutes, however, to revive 
her, and then she clasped her hands, cast herself 
on her knees before a picture of the Madonna 
that hung on the wall over a small oratory, and 
having prayed silently, but in tears, she rose up 
strengthened in her confidence in God, and full of 
calm resignation to His will. 

Then she asked, “ Where did ye leave my poor 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


357 


unhappy boy ? In* the hospital in the city, or 
where he was wounded ? Tell me, that I may go 
to see him ! ” 

“ Madam,” answered Hogan, he is not so 
badly injured as you imagine. He met with the 
accident out at Lake Minetonka, but we brought 
him along during the cool night air, and now he is 
right down in the village, at the house of widow 
Spoones, where he has’ every care -and attendance 
that he needs.” 

“ There ! ” she exclaimed, in anger ; ‘‘ wh*y did 
ye leave him there ? I would rather see him out 
on the' prairie than in that house, or among those 
scheming people. Don’t you know that it was in 
that house, or among those cunning people, not to 
call ’em worse, that my poor child first learned to 
disobey and slight his mother and neglect his 
duties?” 

“ No, ma’am, we knew nothing of the kind,” 
responded Mulcahy. ‘^We noticed that members 
of that family were very kind and attentive to 
your son, and, as they showed great regard and 
concern for him and his trouble, we consented that 
he should stay there, especially as the day was 
getting warm, and he appeared to need rest.” 

“ Oh, I am sorry ye did not bring him home to 
die, even if he died on. the way, rather than leave 
him there. But I must get him home out of that 
place. Do you think, Mr. Mulcahy, he was in 
danger, so as to need the priest ? ” 


358 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“Well, I would recommend that the priest be 
notified. It may not be absolutely needed, but it 
is the safer way.” 

“ Oh, I guess he needs the priest. Run you, 
David,” she said, addressing the. hired man, “ take 
a horse and saddle, and tell the priest to hurry to 
visit your poor boss, who is almost dead. Lose 
no time, and say I sent you, and say that he lies 
dangerously wounded in Brighton, at Mrs. Spoones’, 
though he shan’t be there long.” 

“ Will one of you gentlemen, you, Mr. Hogan, 
or Mr. Riordan, drive me to the village ?” 

“Yes, of course, very willingly, and shall be 
glad to remain there to see to him in case he can’t 
be removed.” 

“ O, then he is worse than you told me at first. 
Why can’t he be removed ? If you were able to 
bring him from Lake Minetonka to the village, 
why not from there to his own home ? ” 

“Well, he may be weaker now than immedi- 
ately after the accident happened.’ He may be in 
what the doctors call an ‘ idiopathic fever,’ and it 
may be deemed dangerous to disturb him for a 
few days.” 

“ Well, now, I perceive I am almost deranged. 
I never asked you how the accident occurred. 
Had he fire-arms with him, or was it his own act, 
this accident ? ” 

“ No. It happened in this manner. A young 
man had been shooting at a deer, and as the ani- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


359 


mal was wounded, it made for the lake, pursued 
by the hunter, when, unfortunately, your son 
being mistaken for the animal in the shades of 
the wood and the twilight of the evening, received 
the contents of the gun of Elder Bull’s son, for he 
did it, in his lower jaw, shattering the bone badly.” 

“ Oh, alas ! that my poor boy ever made the 
acquaintance of that notoriously bad boy. During 
several months, indeed, since the first day poor 
Pat went to that academy, under the evil advice 
of a notorious libertine called Hoskey, that Elder’s 
son has been ever his enemy. And now the end 
has come which I ever dreaded, but which I could 
never cause his father, God rest him, to fear or im- 
agine.” 

Oh I don’t think there is any likelihood that 
this wound will end his life, but it would of course, 
deform his features very much.” 

“ God help him, I fear that his soul is more de- 
formed than his appearance, for it is over two years 
now, I belieye, since he approached the sacraments 
or paid any attention to his religious duties. Per- 
haps' this mishap may now open his eyes to the la- 
mentable state of mind in which he has lived so 
long. God send, it may do him good, though Saint 
PVancis De Sales, I believe, says, that few are con- 
verted through sickness or bodily infirmity.’’ 

While the old lady was entertaining her com- 
panions, those young men, the associates of her son, 
with such melancholy reflections as the foregoing 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


360 

dialogue represents, the young man David had 
reached the priest's house with his ‘‘sick call.” 
The priest was just returning from the church after 
his five o’clock Mass, when the messenger addressed 
him, saying, “ Your reverence, I corne to invite you 
to a sick call.” 

Who is it that’s sick? ’’ asked the priest. 

“ My young boss, sir, Mr. Mulroony.” . . 

“ What has made him sick? Did I not see him 
two or three days ago riding around here with a 
carriage of young women, and he was as rugged as 
a young colt ?’’ 

“ ’Tis not sick he is at all, your reverence, but 
he is almost dead ! ’’ 

“ He is almost dead, and not sick, eh ? What 
sort of talk is this for you, David ? ” 

“ I beg your pardon, reverence. I did not mean 
to say he was sick from fever, or any disease, but 
he is near dead for all that, for he got shot.’’ 

“ Shot, did you say ? Who shot him ? ’’ 

“ Really, I don’t know, sir, who shot him, but his 
mother sent me to hurry your reverence to come in 
haste to see him.” 

“Where is he, when did he get shot, and who 
shot him ? Can you not answer these questions ?” 

“ Yes, your reverence. He got shot out at 
Lake Minetonka, at a camp-meeting. He is now 
in the valley below, at Madam SfX)ones'. He got 
shot, I think, last night or early this morning, and 
there is hardly a puff in him now, I am told. Your 
5 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 361 

reverence must hurry, or you won’t catch him 
alive.” 

Oh, well, I can’t help that. I am really sorry 
for his good mother, but for the lad himself I have 
not much sympathy. I often warned him against 
the company he kept, but he preferred the counsel 
of Professor Hoskey to mine, and he was more at- 
tentive to camp-meeting than to his Church.”- 

“ He may be sorry for all that now, your rever- 
ence. They say he called for your reverence. I 
hope, anyhow, you will come at once, for his mother 
sent me for you.” 

“ I will, of course, because she sent for me; but 
as for your young boss, Paran M. Ronay, alias Pad- 
dy Mulroony, I have not much hope of him. I 
don’t think, he is going to be converted, even if he is 
shot, unless the shot will prove his death. In that 
case, I hope the Lord will have mercy on him. Be 
off, now, young man, and tell them I will be with 
him as soon as possible. Do you take care, for fear 
you would get shot. Be attentive to your religious 
duties, and keep away from camp-meetings and all 
such places.” 

Never fear, your reverence. I never went to 
any of them places, though I often heard them 
roarin’ and shoutin’ in the grove below there, 
when I would be goin’ after the cows. I was often 
asked to go there, to get acquainted with the girls, 
but me mother told me in Ireland, in* Fedmore 
county, Limerick, where she lived, God be good to 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


362 

her saul, never to turn me back on me religion, nor 
to go near any of those meetings, not for all the. 
money in the world. And I never did, nor do I 
mean to, please God.” 

“ That's right ; don’t forget your mother’s ad- 
vice. Go off, now, and God bless you.” 

“ Well, sir, before I go I want to tell you that 
our family in Limerick were good Catholics. We 
had not much education ; we could all read and 
write, and learned the Catechism, that’s all. But 
me mother told us all to attend to our religion ; to 
go to confession four times a year, or once a month, 
if we could ; not like most people hereabout, who 
never go near a priest except when they have a 
child to baptize, or a marriage ceremony on hand. 
We paid our due^ at Christmas and Easter, and never 
missed a station.” 

“ That’s right ; you do well to remember these 
things.” 

“ Reverend sir, I never forgets my mother’s ad- 
vice. She is now in Heaven, I hope. If I had a 
dollar now, I would give it you to say Mass for her 
soul.” 

“ Don’t mind the dollar ; I will pray for her, and 
remember her in my sacrifices. Run off, now, good 
bye.” Exit, 



CHAPTER XXX. 

THE NET IS DRAWN TIGHTLY OVER THE VICTIM. 

HILE his afflicted mother was preparing to 
visit her unfortunate son to comfort and 
console him, there were gathered around 
his bed a clique of pious individuals anxious 
to profit by his misfortune. These persons were 
Elder Bull and wife, and the leading ministers of 
the neighborhood, who came to tender their coun- 
sel to Miss Polly Spoones in this emergency. They 
felt great sympathy for her, they stated, and thought 
something ought to be done to secure her in obtain- 
ing the fruit of her protracted and zealous labors. 
Elder Fribbler remarked that if her young friend 
died from his wounds, all they could do would be to 
give Miss Spoones full credit for the success of her 
evangelical labors in bringing her young friend 
Ronay within the pale of the Methodist Church. 
This would indeed be a great glory to her, and 
would hand down her name among the great women 
of the day. 



3^4 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Yes, Brother Fribbler,’’ rejoined Elder Bull, 
‘‘that would redound to her fame, sartin, but she 
is entitled, our good sister as she is, to more than 
barren glory. Glory is a good thing in itself, but 
that is a sort of wealth that properly belongs to the 
next life. He went in for some comfort in this life 
too, and who would say that our zealous sister was 
not justly entitled to some profit rn this life, 
even if she would have to suffer the loss of her 
young friend.” 

“ True, true,” repliedElder Fribbler, “ she is un- 
questionably entitled to something more than barren 
fame, for she has not only succeeded in detaching 
young Ronay from the errors of P-opery, but such 
men as Professor Hoskey are gained to our Church, 
and it is said that several young men from the 
Irish settlement are completely weaned through 
the tracts and books which Miss Spoones has cir- 
culated, and the sociables she conducted, from the 
superstitious customs of the Catholics.” 

Fribbler was in favor of getting up some testi- 
monial for their fellow-laborer in the vineyard. Miss 
Spoones. The question was in what shape the pub- 
lic sense should manifest its approbation of her 
good services. He would go in for anything the 
^ br ether ing' would recommend and approve. 

“ Ah, Brother Fribbler,” exclaimed the presi- 
ding Elder, “you seem not to comprehend my 
meaning. Miss Spoones is no pauper, and would 
not receive any pecuniary compensation for her 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 365 

Godly labors. There is some other way for reward- 
ing her besides a testimonial.’’ ' 

If there is, Elder/’ answered Fribbler, “I 
would like to know it. I want light on the sub- 
ject.” 

“Well, you shall have it, if you don’t interrupt 
me too often. ’ What is to hinder us here and now 
to make these two, who love one another, one.” 

“ I don’t see how that can be done while he is 
not in his senses. If he would only wake up out 
of this swoon, what you propose might be ef- 
fected.’’ 

“ Swoon or no swoon, I say we can, in the name 
of the Lord, make these young people one. There 
are many instances of death-bed marriages on rec- 
ord. Do you forget, for instance, the example of our 
celebrated brother Beecher, in New York, in the 
McFarland-Richardson affair? They were married 
when one of the parties was at the point of death, 
arid, furthermore, during the lifetime of the first 
husband of the lady. Why can’t we do likewise ? 
Does not the good book say, ‘ Go and do thou 
likewise ? ’ ” 

“ That is a new idea to me. It never occurred 
to me, that case.” 

“ No, I guess not. Very few original ideas occur 
to some men, but when men of genius originate 
enterprises, then the. minor lights all borrow their 
brightness.” 

“ That’s so. I allow you are a smart man. Elder 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


366 

Bull. You deserve all the honor you enjoy in the 
church and state.’’ 

“ Now I want the family consulted. Call in 
Miss Spoones and her mother, and if they4iave no 
objections, we shall dispatch this business at once.” 

The old lady and her daughter obeyed the surn- 
mons forthwith ; the latter appeared sad, and as if 
she had shed some tears. 

“ Now, ladies, I hope you won’t think me med- 
dlespme, or that I purpose anything painful to your 
feelings, if I ask you a few questions.” 

‘‘Oh, not at all,’’ answered the old lady. “We 
shall hear anything you say, and Polly, I trust, will 
answer all you ask her in candor.” 

“Well, now, I want to know if there wasn’t an 
engagement of marriage between your daughter 
and this ere yOung man?” 

“Well, I rather think there was. But here she 
is, ask herself. Answer the Elder, Polly dear, 
and don’t be ashamed to tell all.’’ 

“ Well, mo;ther, I hate now to speak of such 
things, while my bosom friend is so low; in fact, till 
he is out- of danger.’’ 

“ Miss Spoones,’’ said the Elder emphatically, 
“ I feel for you very much. But you had better 
cheer up. Now if this young man dies, all your 
labor is in vain. In fact, what you have done will 
be accounted a loss instead of a profit. But if you 
tell candidly how the matter stood between ye both, 
I can make ye man and wife on the strength of past 
promises between ye.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


367 

“ You could, Elder, could you ?” exclaimed the 
old lady, agreeably surprised. “ Then, Polly dear, 
tell all that happened.” 

“ Well, we were engaged since more than a year. 
And he was only waiting for his mother, who was 
a bigoted Papist, to go east, to marry me in pub- 
lic. I hope you ain’t going to ask me what took 
place- in private between us?” 

Oh^ no ; keep that to yourself. But you dis- 
tinctly state that ye were engaged ?” . 

“ Oh, yes ; many a long day since.” 

“ All right, then ; I shall marry ye here, on the 
spot. Then, if he should die, you are entitled to 
one-third of his property, and that will be some- 
thing to compensate you for the loss of all your zeal 
and time in going with this young man to our 
church. There ought to be profit as well as lossl' 

“ You are very kind. Elder,’’ interrupted the old 
lady, “ and my daughter will remember . you for 
this.” 

“ Nothing at all, but my duty. Now, call the 
witnesses, and fix yourself up a little, Miss Spoones, 
till I make you Mrs. P. M. Ronay.’’, 

The trouble will be to get the young man’s 
consent,” said Mrs. Nugget, who was present. 

And the doctor’s also ; for he said that the pa- 
tient should not be woke up till after the effects of 
the opiates passed off,” said Aunt Sally, the nurse. 

“ Don’t you have no fears. Aunt Sally ; we won’t 
disturb him at all,” replied the presiding Elder. 


368 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


There ain’t no occasion for him to be disturbed 
much. You just take hold of his hand, and I 
shall ask the questions. But, before I commence 
this solemn ceremony, allow me to address the 
Throne of Grace on your behalf : ‘We thank Thee, 
O Lord, for the love Thou hast been pleased to in- 
spire these young people with. They have walked 
in the paths of Thy commandments ; they have 
heeded the counsels of Thy law ; they have loved 
one another. Let them persevere in this love to 
the end ; let them be a comfort to one another, and 
an ornament to Thy church ; let them from this 
day forth walk in the same paths of Thy command- 
ments; let them be- of one mind, and of one flesh. 
Amen.’ Now, join hands. You take your friend’s 
hand. Miss Spoones!” 

“ P. M. Ronay, wilt thou take Miss Polly 
Spoones for thy lawful wife ? If you can’t answer 
in words, make pressure with thy hand.” 

“ Do you feel his hand pressing yours, Miss 
Polly?” 

“ Yes, Elder, I think I do.” 

“Very well, that’s just as valid as if he spoke. 
Now, Miss Polly Spoones, do you take P. M. Ronay 
for thy lawful husband ? ’’ 

“Yes, sir, I do, willingly,’’ 

“ Then I pronounce you mafr and wife. And 
now let us thank the Lord for His mercy to those 
loving people. Allow me to congratulate you, Mrs. 
Ronay, on your auspicious* marriage. And I will 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 369 

give you leave to retire, for I see some strangers 
entering.” 

Just as the Elder concluded his mock ceremo- 
nial, Mrs. Mulroony entered, accompanied by the 
two or three young Irishmen, Mulcahy, Hogan, 
and Haley, whom we have already mentioned, and 
who introduced the old lady to those who sur- 
rounded the wounded young man’s bed. Then 
commenced a scene of heartrending sorrow and 
maternal grief which moved the most unfeeling to 
tears and woke up the hitherto unconscious suf- 
ferer. But to all the affectionate appeals and lov- 
ing questions of his parent he only answered : 

Mother, do forgive your bad boy ; oh, do forgive 
me, mother.” 

“Yes, my darling son, I forgive you from my 
sore heart, though you caused me many a sleepless 
night. Oh, why did you stray off from yout 
mother’s care, to associate with strange people 
who you knew never could love you like your 
mother? Oh, even now, if you come back, it is 
not yet too late. I have room in my heart for you 
still. Oh, my poor boy, my poor, murdered, lost 
boy. I thought I would never see you in this 
terrible plight. Oh, won’t you come home with 
me ? answer. Ah, he does not hear me now ; he is 
again relapsed into unconsciousness..’’ 

“Madam,” said the Elder, “allow me to tell 
you that the doctor said it would be dangerous to 
remove him from where he is till after the fever 
abates that is on him.” 


370 


PROFIT A ND LOSS. 


Ah, good sir ; I do not care what the doctor 
has said, I must have my son home from this 
place.’’ 

“ Don’t you fear but he will have the best of 
care, for he is among those who honor and love 
him. But after the effects of this accident are 
over, which I hope will be soon, then of course he 
can go home.” 

“You are very kind, sir. But I must have him 
home and away from this house immediately, even 
if he dies on the way. Come, young men,” she 
said, addressing her companions, “help me to 
carry my- boy to the wagon and lay him on the 
bed contained therein, and thus we can have him 
carried.” 

The young men hated to refuse the matron, but 
yet Mulcahy was of the opinion that it was not 
safe to remove him in his present condition. 
Hence he began to rerhonstrate with the old lady 
about the imprudence of her design. But while 
they were talking the priest entered, and * going 
over to the sufferer felt his pulse and examined his 
condition, and after having made a diagnosis 
unfavorable to the removal, he prevailed on his 
mother, for the present at least, to leave him where 
he was at the Spoones mansion. 


/ 



CHAPTEK XXXL 

THE PRIEST AND THE PARSON IN FRIENDLY CONVERSATION. 

HEN the Irish priest of the Irish settlement 
had arrived to administer the consolations 
of religion to the wounded young man, 
Mulroony, alias Ronay, there were present 
at his bedside, besides his afflicted mother and 
sympathizing compatriots, all the Elders of the 
neighborhood, including, of course, the presiding 
Elder, Bull, and wife, and several of the leading 
members of his meeting-house. Besides these, 
there was present also the notorious Professor 
Hoskey, one Tommy the Donkey, an Irish apos- 
tate and sot, and a few more persons of no conse- 
quence, all anxious to claim the credit of the con- 
version of the sufferer to the Methodist Church, 
As soon as the priest entered, he was immediately 
conducted by Mrs. Mulroony to the sofa-bed on 
which her son rested, where, upon having felt the 
patient’s pulse, and otherwise made a diagnosis of 
his condition, his reverence came to the conclusion 



372 


I 


■ PROFIT AND LOSS. 


that there was no danger of death, and therefore 
declined to administer those religious consolations 
which are never to be imparted except to persons 
who are in articulo mortis^ or imminent peril of 
dissolution. 

Having sat down on the chair politely set before 
him by Miss Spoones. the priest replied to the 
question asked, as to whether he thought Ronay 
was dangerously ill, that he thought not, but that 
he would recover, his pulse indicating a very favor- 
able state of his general health. It was a very 
melancholy event however, he added, and ought 
to be a lesson to those who were too free in the use 
of fire-arms. 

“ That is true enough,’’ replied the presiding 
Elder, “ fire-arms should be handled keerfully^ but, 
had his advice been taken, and had the .party de- 
voted their whole time at the Lake to prayer-meet- 
ings, this accident could not have happened.” 

“ I suppose not, indeed,” replied the priest, smil- 
ing. Had there been no fire-arms used he could 
not have been shot, and had thero been no excur- 
sion, there would have been no chance of the shoot- 
ing occurring. The responsibility unquestionably,” 
he added, rests on those who, notwithstanding 
the adverse opinion of the most respectable portion 
of the community, persist in encouraging those 
camp-meetings^and rural religious love-gatherings, 
which, under the devotional services of the Metho- 
dists, and a few other sects, are the laughing-stock 
of almost all other religious bodies.’’ 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


373 


I must beg to differ with you in opinion 
regarding camp-meetings, and what you regard as 
rural religious gatherings,” rejoined the Elder. 

Our camp-meetings symbolize and continue those 
great gatherings pf believing men, women and chil- 
dren_, who went into the wilderness to hear Jesus 
when he was on earth. And I hope I shall never 
see the day when the camp-meeting, as a means of 
grace, shall fall into disuse.” 

“ Good, good for you. Elder,” interrupted Hos- 
key. “ I must give my opinion in favor of the 
camp-meeting. I confess I like the camp. And, 
when I could not stand half an hour to hear the 
best sermon tha.t ever was delivered in a meeting- 
house or church, I confess that the camp-meeting 
has many charms for me. Yes, I do declare it ; give 
me the camp-meeting before all other religious ser- 
vices.” 

“ Shut up, sirrah,” said the priest, sternly ; ‘‘how 
dare you address yourself to me, or even come in 
the presence of any decent people ! I do not want 
to have any conversation with such a renegade as 
you ! I am now speaking to the Elder and not to 
you, and if you interrupt me a second time, I shall 
rise and leave this house, if you are not kicked out 
ofit!” 

“ Oh, of course, ’V answered the Elder. “I do 
not wish you to interrupt my talk with the priest 
again, Hoskey. I can talk with you any time, but 
it is not every day I can see a priest, to talk to him. 


374 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


I believe we were on the subject of camp-meet- 
ings,” he resumed. “ I consider them, as I stated 
just now, one of our best institutions to bring men 
to Christ. The conversions made at camp-meet- 
ings every year are far more numerous and impor- 
tant than all the converts we receive into our church 
by all other sources, revivals included, for people 
come to the camp-meeting who never go to the 
church.” 

“ I have no doubt that you receive accessions 
thereby, but I doubt very much if people who join 
you under such influences are really converted. 
Excitement leads to enthusiasm and delusion, but 
seldom does the strayed sheep, that returns to, fold 
under the influence of excitement, long persevere 
within its salutary restraints. When the excite- 
ment cools off, the sinner goes back to his old 
haunts and errors, and his second condition be- 
comes worse than his first.” 

“ Here we join issue again ; and, sir, Zaccheus, 
the publican Jew, was under the excitement when 
he was converted to Christ. Hence he was up in 
the sycamore tree, and, from the midst of the leaves 
and branches, as it were, he came down, and be- 
came a disciple of Christ, and gained salvation.” 

“He may have been under excitement.; no doubt 
his heart was excited to contrition. But, after he 
came down from the tree, and his excitement, as you 
call it, was over, behold the fruits of his conversion. 
The fruit was there, as well as the leaves. ‘ Be- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


375 


hold,’ he said, ‘ one-half of what I have I give to 
the poor, and, if I have wronged any person, I re- 
turn him four-fold.’ How seldom do we hear any 
pious follower of camp-meetings, after his mock 
conversion, restoring his ill-gotten goods to the 
owner, or dividing his patrimony or income with 
the poor. There is, certainly, great noise made at 
such gatherings — ‘ great cry and little wool.’ But 
all ends in smoke ; when the noise is over and the 
excitement is over, it i§ all over, except, indeed, 
you claim as a blessing and a fruit to be appreciated 
the increase to the census of the population, which, 
they say, results from every camp-meeting that is 
held.” 

“ They say many things that are not true. But, 
even granting all you state to be true, is not a 
camp-meeting, with a professed religious end in 
view, as good, if not better, than the dances, pic- 
nics, bazaars and excursions which are carried on 
under the auspices of your church. In the camp- 
meeting accidents may occur; no human institution 
is perfect. The 'population, if you will have it so, 
may be increased. But at your church-gatherings, 
or excursions, or picnics, the population is dimin^ 
ished. It is not often when such events happen, 
that somebody or other is not killed, maimed or 
hurt. Our camp-meetings seldom or never end in 
a fight.’' 

I must concede to you that such accidents 
take place occasionally, and I do not defend those 


376 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

contrivances to raise funds for charitable objects, 
but these picnics, fairs and excursions, are not set 
on foot like camp-meetings, for the conversion of 
sinners, or direct means of grace, as you call them. 
They afe only devices originated by the benevolent 
for the promotion of useful and charitable ends.’’ 

“ What a nice figure one of the twelve apostles 
would cut, could it be possible to suppose him 
holding a festival in the woods where lager-beer 
was retailed at ten cents a glass, and worthless 
counterfeit jewelry raffled off at fifty cents a chance. 
And then after the beer was drank, and the poison- 
ous candy sucked, and the money all safe, the' whole 
party would end in a fight, or a promiscuous fisti- 
cuffing ! This I often witnessed at rural feasts presid- 
ed over by your church or churchmen ; and for scan- 
dal, I think can beat all the camp-meetings I ever 
heard of, all to pieces.” ^ 

“ I am not defending these abuses you point 
out, though I deny that my church directly rec- 
ommends, much less sanctions, such abuses. 
These festivals are generally conducted by the 
laity, and got up by them for charitable purposes, 
and can by no means be called religious institutions 
like your camp-meetings. If abuses take place in 
conducting them (and I allow that there are abuses 
sometimes) the church is not, nor are the clergy, 
responsible for such irregularities, for they occur 
in opposition to both. But your camp-meetings 
are different affairs. They are avowedly a part. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


377 


and as you state, very useful part, of your religion. 
Hence, your church is directly responsible for all 
the abuses that flow from them, such as the many 
who become insane under the excitement of the 
furious declamation of such revivalists as Finney, 
Moffat, and others, not to speak of the well-known 
fact that pickpockets, gamblers and “ women of the 
town’’ are generally mixed up with your saints at 
such gatherings^ I never was at a camp-meeting 
in my life, and I take my data in regard to them 
from the testimony of respectable Protestant jour- 
nals such as the New York. Churchman, as well as 
from highly-respectable gentlemen, lay and cleric, 
of the same religious persuasion, who are not a whit 
less opposed to camp-meetings than I am. Have 
we not instances here in this very town of what 
sort of conversions take place .at such gatherings ? 
Was it not at your camp-meetings in the vicinity 
of this villagje that the .now wretched Miss Nellie 
Spittle became a convert and made the religious 
acquaintance of that bad young man Hanks, who 
gained her confidence under pretence of devotion, 
deceived her. by a promise of marriage, and finally 
ruined and deserted her on the streets of St. Paul? 
And to come a little nearer home, was it not at 
camp-meetings and religious social gatherings that 
that accomplished ruffian Hoskey, who interrupted 
me a few minutes ago, got acquainted with all those 
young silly girls, so many of whom he boasts of 
having ruined, until, as you are aware, the entire 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


378 

county is scandalized, shocked and disturbed by 
the narrations of his scandalous seductions and 
infamous vauntings?” 

“ I will not contradict what you assert about 
some of the people who come. to our camp-meet- 
ings, but ‘Of such is the Kingdom of God.’ If 
such people come, let them. May not some of 
them become converts, and become Magdalens and 
Marys of Egypt. I could point out to' you 
many instances in which gamblers, house-breakers 
and prize-fighters became very good men, and very 
efficient preachers in after life. Ned Buntline is 
an instance in our own country, and there was a 
fanious burglar in London who is now one of the 
first-class preachers and revivalists in that modera 
Babylon. Christ came to call all men, and especi- 
ally sinners. I allow that Hoskey’s conversion 
was not a good one. He has become a backslider, 
and turned out bad. But he was bad under Catho- 
lic teaching. It was before he joined us that he 
was guilty of the horrid crime of s — (that can’t be 
named). We are not accountable for the anteced- 
ents of all our converts, and as we refuse none, it 
must be that the Methodist will often include 
some bad fish among the good. This Professor 
Hoskey is one of these bad fishes. He may be 
called a scabby sheep, but as he is now known, he 
can deceive us no longer. We will have a look- 
out for him. If I had known that he was to 
be one of our party in the excursion to Lake Min- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


379 


etonka, I should not have permitted him to be 
among us. It is rather strange, however, that with 
his well-known antecedents, and his notoriously 
bad'record among the girls of your settlement, he 
has so many friends among-your own people; that 
he has been elected to office by your own people, 
and that if he gets a wife he must take one of your 
Catholic young ladies, for I assure you that, after 
the exposure of his doings in the lower towns of our 
keounty^ none of our Methodist girls, not even the 
colored wenches, would come within forty rods of 
him.” 

Elder, I concede most of what you state to 
be true. Certain it is that the now notorious 
Professor. Hoskey was baptized a Catholic. But 
that is all the church had to do with him. He 
owes what he is good and had to his education in 
your common schools. It is in those seminaries 
that the seeds were planted of those terrible vices 
and unmentionable crimes which have now ren- 
dered him infamous, and will ‘ damn him to ever- 
lasting fame.’ There, in public schools, he learned 
to despise religion and blaspheme God. There 
he got acquainted with most of these silly, but 
once innocent girls, whom he now boasts of having 
ruined. , There his heart was corrupted, his brow 
hardened, and his tongue was trained to the lan- 
guage of blasphemy, dissimulation- and perjury. 
He is a most accomplished graduate of the public 
schools. He deserves the highest distinction of 


38 o 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


godless eminence that they can confer. He ought 
to get the gold medal for being the most com- 
pletely accomplished graduate of godless educa- 
tion that ever issued from the four walls of our 
godless schools. He is the ^ ne plus iiltrd^ of ruf- 
fian and infidel distinction of the public schools. 
He deserves to be called ‘ The Professor’ while 
he lives, and when he dies, he ought to be placed 
on an equestrian statue, and a copy of his effigy 
placed in every one of 'the public schools of the 
state and the nation.’’ 

“ Are you not too hard on the unfortunate Pro- 
fessor, Mr. Priest ? ” said the Elder. 

“Not at all,” answered his Reverence; “that 
very Professor is the cause of the sad fate of this 
young man, who lies here before us wounded. 
This old lady here in, grief, his mother, will bear 
me witness, that it was this scoundrel Professor 
that first led him from being a loving, obedient 
child of his good parents, to become a reckless 
dissipated young man, who went all round the 
country led by this Professor, to frequent dances, 
sociables and other nocturnal gatherings. Nay, it 
was through this man’s deception and evil influ- 
ence that this old lady is now a heart-broken 
widow, covered with the melancholy weeds of her 
mourning, for it was in the Professor’s company 
that her husband, the good Mr. Mulroony, imbibed 
the liquid poison that killed him.” 

“ I kan’t stand that talk against Mr. Ploskey, ” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


381 

exclaimed the filthy wretch called “ Tommy the 
Donkey.” “■ Although you are the priest, I must 
give you the lie. I knowed Mr. Mulroony well, 
and it was the frast that kilt’ im, and not the 
Professor.” 

Be silent, Tommy,” said Miss Spoones. “ Get 
out to your work ; you have no business here ; the 
stable is your place.” 

I kan’t hear me friend, the Professor, run down. 
He is goin’ to marry a cousin iv mine, and I von’t 
hear priest or minister run ’im down.” 

“ Be off, you wretch,” said the young man, Mul- 
cahy, “ or I will kick you to the stable, or the sty, 
of which you so strongly smell. Avaunt, sirrah.’’ 

Let the poor brute alone,” said the priest. 
“ He knows no better ; you cannot expect any bet- 
ter from that illustrious specimen of Darwin’s 
theory. He. naturally defends the Professor, for 
the degraded brute is a victim of his impious prin- 
ciples, and a convert to his godless teaching.” 

‘‘ He is a very ferocious animal, your Reverence, 
and may attack you when you go out, as he 
threatens that he will do.” 

He may threaten or assassinate me, but he 
cannot intimidate me. We had better retire from 
this place, however, gentlemen,” said the priest, 
taking his hat. It is not safe to be in the vicinity 
of such ferocious animals. I bid you all good day.” 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

A DEN OF CONSPIRATORS. 

T was often said by Father John, that where- 
ever a church was erected in honor of God, 
there was sure also to appear in some shape 
or other a place dedicated to Satan. 

This aphorism, the good priest used to say, was 
of universal application, no matter how enlightened, 
religious, or educated the inhabitants were, where 
God had his church, Satan had his synagogue.’’ 
And we must not suppose that the first settlements 
on the far prairies of Minnesota were an exception, 
or exempt from the malediction of this mysterious 
dispensation of the permissive will of Providence. 
There were not only one, but several of these dens 
of Satan,” in the shape of “ saloons,” groggeries,” 
“ card and dice whiskey bars,” and stores,” in the. 
neighborhood of the fine church which lifted its 
gilded cross aloft towards the stars on that fair 
prairie of Saint Patrick. In a former chapter we 
spoke of one of the^e “ dens” which was ' run by 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


383 - 

Madam Mastiff, the favorite resort of Professor 
Hoskey, and his low crowd of brutish admirers. 
There were, beside the Mastiff resort, also two or 
three other dens, no way inferior to the Mastiff 
firm in infamy and incentives to vice and drunken- 
ness. One was presided over by a bloated brute, 
an ex-pedagogue, named “ Mickey the Miser,” and 
like the place for which it acted as a seminary, it 
was open. day and night, week-day and Sunday. 
The blasphemies, the maledictions, and the riots 
which took place in “ Mickey the Miser’s” den 
were. really fearful. Yet the wretch had his wife 
and children in the upper part of the building, 
where such indescribable scenes of riot, blasphemy, 
and bloodshed took place almost daily. “ Long 
Neddy” kept' a place next door to Mickey, but as 
he was not so Idst to blame as the former, though 
not a whit more honest, he ^.Iways closed his 
“ den” during Mass time. “ Bandy-legged Pete,’’ 
called in the Celtic '‘^Father na SnaughP kept a 
third place in the vicinity. In each and every one 
of these traps for the ruin of the simple country- 
man, not only was bad whiskey retailed at enor- 
mous profit on Sundays, but all the conspiracies, 
plots, and secret schemes for carrying on the de- 
signs of such wicked men as . Hoskey and his 
associates were resolved upon and matured. 

At one time, the end proposed was to destroy . 
the threshing-machine of some, stranger who was 
willing to do the work of the farmers cheaper than 


384 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


it could be done in the settlement. A meeting was 
held at the saloon of one of the above worthies, 
Mickey the Miser’s,” “ Long Neddy’s,’’ or “ Father 
na Snaugh’s,” and at once a number of villains vol- 
unteered to destroy the machine of the rival 
thresher. Again, a shiftless farmer wished to draw 
his insurance for a quantity of damaged wheat, 
which was rotting in his barn. A few dollars were 
spent at any of the above-mentioned saloons, and 
on the same night the barn was burned. Professor 
Hoskey was the head of the gang of incendiaries 
and murderers, and woe betide the farmer who was 
not his friend. 

On the present occasion, in reference to the 
insult offered the Professor by the priest, in order- 
ing him out of his presence, at the bedside of Mul- 
roony, the victim of his cunning malice, the meet- 
ing was held at the saloon of the degraded wretch, 
“ Mickey the Miser.’’ 

Besides the Professor, there were present ^‘Tom- 
my the Donkey,” Billy the Boy,” “ Father na 
Snaugh,’’ and “ Anthony the Dribbler.” 

The question laid before this drunken cabal was 
how to avenge the injury done to. the Professor by 
the priest, who seemed ever to stand in his way in 
carrying out his design of bringing the whole popu- 
lation over to his own advanced ideas about educa- 
tion. The Professor was a man of unbounded van- 
ity, and, because he could read, write and count 
(though he could spell but indifferently), he re- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


385 


garded himself as a prodigy of learning. Though 
he was a nominal Catholic only, yet he claimed 
that he knew as much about the doctrines and 
practices of the Church as the priest. He often 
made speeches in school-houses to the gaping 
crowds of half-drunken old men, who were his only 
auditors. He told them that he read the Bible for 
himself, and that he could discharge all the duties 
of the priesthood as well as any of them, if he had 
only a ‘‘ white gown, a rope, and a pewter chalice.” 
He also declaimed against having the Catechism 
taught, saying that the Catechism was the work of 
the priests, but the Bible the word and work of 
God. These occurrences coming to the knowledge 
of the priest, he felt it his duty to warn his flock 
against the false teaching, as well as the scandal- 
ous conduct, of the Professor. But it appears the 
priest had warned them too. late. Already several 
of the young men who had neglected their sacra- 
mental duties gave a willing ear to the teachings 
of the Professor ; and many of the old drunkards, 
like “ Anthony the Dribbler,” and “ Tommy the 
Donkey,” drank of the poisonous nonsense of the 
Professor with the same gusto with which they 
quaffed his whiskey at the saloons. 

“ Gentlemen, help yourselves to as much of that 
licker as you want,” said the Professor one Sunday 
night at the saloon of “ Mickey the Miser.” “ I 
have been awfully insulted yesterday by the priest 
we have got, but I hope we won’t have long. He 
25 


386 


. PROFIT AND LOSS. 


turned me out of the very room where my young 
friend Ronay lay on his death-bed, in presence of 
all the company, and I declare it, if I had had my 
revolver with me, I think I would have shot him, 
so I would.” 

“ Oh, Professor, here’s to you. I hope you 
won’t do that ; it would give so much scandal to 
shoot the priest,” said Anthony the Dribbler.” ' 

And fot ov ud, off it vud give schandle. Father 
Anthony ? ” said “ Tommy the Donkey.’’ “ Shure, 
daicint min must defind themselves onyhow. Give 
us your hand, professor, that you rnay live to silence 
that purriest, I sez.” 

“ I, too, am in favor of givin that purriest a 
good whalin, but not killing ’im out and out,’’ said 
Long Neddy. 

“ And I too,” said Pete, or Pather na Snaugh. 

He intherfares too much in our licker bisness. 
We must get rid uv him onyhow.’’ 

He got me foined eighty dollars last winther,’’ 
added Mickey the Miser, “ and I will give two gal- 
lons of my best licker to have him get a good 
pounding.’’ 

“ I’ll give three gallons,” said Long Neddy. 

Pll give four, and a keg of beer,” added Pete. 

“ Now, gentlemen,” resumed the Professor seri- 
ously, “ I am ready to spend money in this business. 
If any man here will engage to range a' crowd say 
of twenty or thirty men to assail that priest, I will 
pay every man of them two dollars, and four jiggers 
of whiskey.’’ 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


387 


“ Done, I’m your man to find the men,” ex- 
claimed Tommy the Donkey. 

“ You see, gentlemen, the case stands thus,” said 
the Professor. “ If I were to attack him myself, I 
would have to suffer from the law, but if a crowd 
assails him, who can prove who hit him, and all will 
come off scot free.” 

“ It wasn’t like meeself,” said Father Anthony, 
to raise me hand against a purriest^ for I seed in 
Ireland those who did so had no luck.” ^ 

“ Nonsense,” rejoined the Professor. “I have 
no such fears. Why does not Victor Emanuel 
have bad luck for what he has done to the Pope ? 
Or even Garibaldi ; why does he flourish ? That’s 
all nonsense to think that priests- are any better 
than other men. They have no power. I would 
as soon shoot one of them as a hog or a beast of 
the woods.” 

• ‘ Listen, gentlemen,” he added, getting on his 
legs, to all this priest has done to hinder my 
advancement. I could have been married to a rich 
young lady. Miss Stokes, but when this priest 
heard of it, he beat me there, and I seed another 
take her off. I ran for Superintendent of this 
keounty; here again he blocked my way. He 
turned me out of the Sabbath-school, warning the 
girls to beware of me, and thus shut me out from 
very pleasant society. If there would be a dance 
or a ball in my neighborhood, he would warn the 
people so against those dances that there would 


388 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


not be half-a-dozen couples, and them the homeli- 
est lot in the settlement, present wherever I was 
floor-manager. And now he has made me so 
odious in the kim7nunity, that nobody except, the 
very lowest associates with me, and there is danger 
that I will be expelled from the Lodge on account 
of the opinion that prevails of me among the people. 
If I let this thing go on, I am really undone. I 
may as well quit this kimmimity at once.” 

“ I advise you to quit it, and that as quick as 
you can,” said somebody who heard what was said, 
and at whose voice the Professor trembled. “ Clear 
out of this, ye gang of plotting murderers, or I will 
kick ye all high and dry out into the centre of the 
road.” 

It was Mickey Bocagh who spoke. He burst 
into the room where the Professor was dilating on 
his grievances, and rushing at him, seized him 
by the collar, and dragging him to the door as 
he would a dog, kicked him headlong into the 
street. The rest of the cabal ran for their lives, for 
they knew very well what mettle he carried in his 
brawny arms. 

“ Mickey the Miser” was indignant, though he 
was too cowardly to complain of being so uncere- 
moniously deprived of his company, and had to 
promise the river man that he would never again 
give countenance or entertainment to the ruffian 
Hoskey. That infamous scamp,” he said, “ has 
been the curse and plague of the Mulroony family. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


389 

It was in his company that the old man drank the 
poisoned liquor, that caused the accident of which 
he died. It was this blackguard Professor that 
corrupted young Mulroony so as to g'et him to 
neglect his religion, though he never yet joined 
any sect. It is that cursed Professor that got up 
the excursion to Minetonka, where young Mul- 
roony got shot. And it is more than probable 
that it was at his suggestion that ‘ Spike’ shot 
him, but this is yet to be proved. And now I have 
heard him proposing to some of those drunken 
followers of his, to waylay and probably assassinate 
the priest. How is it that you can countenance 
such vagabonds in your saloon? I tell you what 
it is, my man,” he said, addressing Mickey the Miser, 
“ if you ever again let that ruffian into your saloon, 
I will punch you severely. Your father, though an 
ignorant man and an inmate of the poor-house in 
Ireland, whomever eat a cut of flour bread till he 
came to Minnesota, yet he never would counte- 
nance his son, or anybody else, to plot the assass- 
ination of a priest.” 

I can’t help ’em if they talk of that or any 
other subject in my saloon, it’s all the same to me 
fat they talk of, if I can sell my licker and make 
money.” 

“ Money, you hound you ! Is it for money 
you live and breathe ? Is it for money that you 
allow murderers to plan a man’s death, as if he 
was a wild beast ? I will hold you responsible if 


390 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


anything happens our good priest — too good to 
be among such a set of brutes as ye are. I will go 
now and warn his reverence of his danger, and if I 
meet any of those assassins, I will pay them my 
respects, depend on it,” and having said so much, 
the river man quit the den of “ Mickey the Miser.” 

“He is too late, now, to warn the priest of 
what he is going to get, and if he is killed, devil 
may care, for he is against us licker men,” said the 
, miserly saloon man. 

These words were spoken audibly after the 
honest river man left, and were heard by none, 
save the wretch who uttered them. 

Meanwhile the Professor and his gang adjourned 
to the den of Father na Snaugh,” where they 
were filled with more liquor, until, from being a 
low, brutal crowd of savages, without education, 
religion, or morals, they became, under the influence 
of drink, more like incarnate demons than men. 

The poor priest had remained all night at the 
bedside of the raving young patient, anxiously pray- 
' ing with his mother, and expecting the return of 
such a state of consciousness as would enable him 
to hear his confession, like the good shepherd, and 
to reconcile him to his offended Maker. Having 
by God’s mercy accomplished his desire, convinced 
himself that all would be well with the young man, 
he was returning home very early in the morning, 
ifi order to offer up the daily sacrifice to the Eternal, 
as was his wont for almost thirty years of his minis- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


391 


try, when, behold, as he was passing by the haunts 
already mentioned in the fore part of this chapter, 
he was set upon by Professor Hoskey and his gang 
of inebriate demons, for they were not men, who 
dragged him from his buggy, struck him on the 
head and face, trampled on him on the road, and 
left him for dead on the road-side. The Professor 
then addressed his aiders and abettors, appealing 
to God to confirm his oath that the shedding of 
the priest’s blood was the most meritorious, act of 
his life. Then having accomplished the purpose 
of his conspiracy, he and his gang again returned 
to the den of ‘^Mickey the Miser,’’ where the Pro- 
fessor washed off the blood from his victorious 
dagger, and his followers washed out all memory 
or remorse of their guilty deed in heavy draughts 
of poisoned whiskey. 

The “ Commune’.’ of Paris have immortalized 
themselves forwhat they did to priests and church- 
men in our own day. Let us not suppose that all 
the bad fame of their satanic acts belongs to them 
alone. 

There were men as bad, though perhaps not so 
bold, as the members of the Paris Commune, in 
many countries and many ages in the past. And 
while the devil is busy, and men are willing to lis- 
ten to his suggestions, there will be such scenes 
occurring yearly, if not daily, in the world, as we 
have described without any exaggeration in this 
chapter. 


392 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


It is not many years since the adorable Image 
of our Lord was dragged through the street and 
committed to the flames amid the yells of a brutal 
mob, in a Western town of our young state. There 
are few who have not heard of the assassination of 
a priest from a pistol-shot in Ohio a year or two 
since. Let it not shock the sensibilities of the re- 
fined reader, therefore, to learn that such an oc- 
currence as we have recorded may have taken place 
a few years ago, when men were less under Chris- 
tian influence than now in a remote corner of the 
state. 

Tanti Molts erat Romanam Condere gentemP 




CHAPTER XXXITL 

MICKEY BOCAGH’s IDEAS OF CHRISTIAN FORBEARANCE 
EXEMPLIFIED. 

)OD morning, Miss Plowden,” said Mickey 
Bocagh, one Saturday morning, as he 
met the former riding, accompanied by her 
little brother, towards the Catholic Church. 

Did you hear the news, Miss?” he added. 

“ No, I have just come from home, and am going 
to the church to meet some other young ladies to 
fix the altar preparatory for the Assumption. What 
is the news ? ” 

“ Why the priest was nearly killed last night on 
his way home from a sick call. He was attacked 
by a squad of drunken rowdies, at the instigation, 
or under the guidance, of the notorious ruffian 
Hoskey. I suppose there won’t be any Mass to- 
morrow.” 

Why, that is dreadful ! Oh, I do not know 
what the people are coming to. I heard that those 
secret society men had threatened the priest, but I 



394 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


did not think that vice, and injustice could triumph 
over truth and honor in this fashion.” 

“ Talk about truth and honor, and virtue, in the 
times in which we live ! There ain’t anything of 
the kind to be found nowadays.’’ 

“ I never thought,” said the amiable young lady, 
wiping her face, bathed in tears, “ that violence, 
crime and falsehood could be allowed, by God, to 
govern people, as I see has lately happened in these 
parts.’’ 

“ My dear young lady, you are too inexperienced 
and innocent to be able to suspect, much less to 
understand, what wickedness there is in the world. 
If you were like me, following the river for the last 
ten years, you Avould know that crimes and violence 
govern most men. Nay^ more. May we not say, 
without danger of exaggeration, that lies govern 
the world ? What enables one party of politicians 
to triumph over another party ? The numbers and 
the boldness of the lies they tell. There is the 
Holy Father himself, in Rome, is it not by slander 
and lies that the robber Victor Emanuel first 
attacked His Holiness, and then he came to seize 
on His Holiness’ property.” 

“ Oh dear, it is too bad, that the wicked should 
carry the day, and that God should allow them to 
trample everything sacred under .foot,” said Miss 
Mary Plowden. “But mother often told me that 
many a time the innocent suffer, and the wicked 
escape. Now we see this illustrated at home.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


395 


“ Yes, they carry the day. . God allows the good 
to be persecuted for a time, to enable them to se- 
cure the crown He has prepared for those who fight 
in his cause. The wicked have their victory in this 
world, but God will turn on them some day, when 
their cup of iniquity is full, and they shall be scatter- 
ed. They have their day, but it will be of short 
duration ; after the storm, comes the calm.” 

“ It seems that they are allowed to carry on too 
long. Who would have thought that our good 
priest had an enemy? Was there ever one of his 
cloth who was more attentive to his duties, visiting 
the sick, preaching and practising temperance, and 
instructing the children ? ’’’ 

Certainly, that is well known. But then those 
liquor men had it in for him, and those secret 
societies, headed by the notorious ruffian Hos- 
key, were ready to sacrifice him, or the Son of 
God if He was on earth, to their malice, and now 
you see the end Mulroony has come to.” 

No, is he dead ? I heard that he was accident- 
ally shot.” 

“No, he was not good enough to die. But 
worse happened him. While sick and speechless, 
and insensible, out of his head altogether, what did 
they do but call in a squad of preachers and go 
through a pretended marriage ceremony between 
him (Mulroony)’and that old jagged Miss Spoones, 
and she claims him as her husband now.” 

“What? you don’t mean what you say, Mich- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


396 

ael ? ’’ asked Miss Plowden, in a tone of astonish- 
ment. 

“Yes, Miss, shiver my timbers all into smither- 
eens, if what I tell you is not true, every word. I 
heard the news from that filthy, but cunning knave, 
called ‘Tommy the Donkey,’ who works for the 
Spoones folks, and who was present when Elder 
Bull done the marriage ceremony.’’ 

“ Why, that will kill his poor mother. She 
blamed those Spoones people for the ruin of her 
son, next to that odious hypocrite Hoskey, and if 
she learns that what you say is a fact, it will kill her 
sure.” 

“ Kill her, it will for certain, and she has heard 
it already, for this ‘Tommy the Donkey’ has told 
it over, and, though he is a notorious liar, whom 
nobody ought to believe, yet enough has leaked out 
from other sources to convince me that Miss Polly 
Spoones is now Mrs. Paran M. Ronay, as sure as 
my name is Michael Ryan, commonly called Mickey 
Bocagh.” 

“Well, then, if she be Mrs. Ronay, how can she 
be married to Patrick Mulroony ? Has she another 
man living, or is she ‘ a grass widow,’ as they call 
such people ? ’’ 

“ She may be ‘ a grass widow,’ or, as I call her, a 
dry hay widow, and be married to a dozen hus- 
bands, as far as I know. She is old enough for 
that, and more. But, as you don’t understand. 
Miss Plowden, I will tell you. When this young 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


397 


man first met Professor Hoskey, he suggested to 
him, that instead of Pat, he should call himself 
Paran, and cutting off the letters ^ Mul’ from Mul- 
roony, should contract it into ‘ Ronay,’ quite a 
Frenchified name. This Hoskey himself had im- 
proved his name, which was originally ‘ Whirosky.*’ 
The fancy pleased the foolish young man, and now 
he calls himself P. M. Ronay.’’ 

“Oh, that’s it, eh?' I should think the ridicule 
he would stand in the company of all his associates 
and countrymen would deter him from such a fool- 
ish alteration of his old Irish name.” 

“It is all the effect of vanity. Miss Mary^ 
Mulroony, before he met with this accident, used 
always to shun my company, -or if we met on the 
road, he would look to the other side from where 
I was, for when we met, I always addressed him 
by saying, ‘ How do you do, Pat,’ or ‘ Good morn- 
ing, Mr. Mulroony,’ and these salutations he never 
liked, especially if there were any of his neighbors 
near, who always addressed him as Ronay.” 

“ Indeed ! I never knew how this happened 
before; could not imagine who Paran M. Ronay 
was. I thought he was some foreign German or 
French Count.” 

“He is no other than the widow Mulroony’s 
son. God help him. I had a mind to pull his ears 
for him once or twice, when I saw him laugh when 
his religion was ridiculed, but now I am glad that 
I did not touch the poor lad, who is more to be 
pitied than hated.” 


398 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ Oh, that was right, Michael/’ rejoined the 
timid Miss Plowden. “ I don’t like when any one, 
no matter how wicked, is punished. It is so bar- 
barous for one who professes to be a Christian, to 
assail another like a wild beast ! ” 

That’s true enough. Miss Mary, though I often, 
God help me, offend in this way ; yet I know it is 
wrong. My temper betrays me, even after I prom- 
ise in confession not to sin m that way any more. 
But there is one thing I promised, and that promise 
I will keep, namely, that the first time I meet that 
scoundrel, Hoskey, who, I am positive, got up the 
party to waylay the priest, I will surely print the 
mark of both my knuckles in his hang-dog face, 
and if, like a dog, he attempts to bite back, I shall 
bury my knife in his flesh, so help me 

‘‘Oh, Michael! for God’s sake, do not make 
such a rash, bad promise 1 Are you not a Catholic 
Christian, and does not the Catechism teach, as 
well as the Bible teaches, that we must love our 
enemies ?” 

“ Yes, Miss, I know it. I forgive all my enemies, 
even those who put balls into me, which I carry up 
to this day in my body. But how can I forgive an 
infidel and an apostate, who tries to upset religion, 
and who has boasted that he seduced so many 
young women, whom I know he slandered, and who 
does all he can to bring contempt on his country- 
men’s creed .?*” 

“ Oh, Michael, we must forgive all, even those' 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


399 


who slander, assault and rob us. Did not our Lord 
pray, even, for His persecutors, who scourged His 
sacred flesh, and nailed Him to the cross? I am 
sure, from what I know of our good priest, and 
nobody knows his. Christian sentiment better than 
I do, that nothing would displease him so much as 
to have any violence done to those deluded people 
who were wicked' enough to raise their sacrilegious 
hands against his anointed person. I hope, there- 
fore, Mr. Ryan, that you will give up any idea of 
revenge which you have entertained, and pray to 
God to convert these people, for, indeed, they need 
it.” 

I would take your advice readily. Miss Plowden, 
very readily, if the injury was done to myself, or 
to any ordinary priest, but when I recollect that 
this priest of ours, God bless him, saved my mother 
from death when all the doctors from the city gave 
her up for lost ; when I saw her stretch out her 
dying hands and ask the priest, our persecuted 
priest, to save her for the love of Christ; when 
I saw the priest go on his knees, after having 
laid aside the Most Holy Sacrament which he had 
with him, but which my mother was not able to 
receive owing to her complaint ; when I saw the 
good man. shed tears; then blessing himself, he 
rose from his knees and dismissed the surgeons to 
another room ; and when, in ten minutes after I 
learned that my mother was saved to us all ; then 
it was that I learned to value our priest, what 


400 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


a treasure we had in him. Then I swore that I 
would die for that priest, if he needed the sacrifice. 
And this is why I vowed to punish his enemies, 
or die in the attempt. And I shall do it, if God 
spares me.” 

‘‘ Oh, Michael, do not think to do anything of 
the kind. The noblest act of one who is injured is 
to forgive. It was this that caused the pagan 
world to recognize in our Lord Jesus the Divine 
Nature, for, before His time, no one ever forgave 
his enemies from his heart.” 

“ But, Miss Mary, it is not on account of my 
mother alone, that I am indignant. The ill-used 
priest not only saved my mother from the grave and 
kept me from being an orphan, but there are over 
one hundred persons in this settlement whom he 
saved also from an untimely death. He may say 
to those modern Jews, what our Lord said to the 
old Jews, “ Many good works I have done among 
you, for which of these do you seek to murder 
me?” 

“Yet, after all the malicious persecutions our 
Blessed Lord suffered, Michael, at his death, we 
read how he prayed : Father forgive them. And 
all the Saints have forgiven their enemies and 
never took any steps to punish those who slander- 
ed, insulted, abused, injured or assailed them. 
This is one of the tests by which we know that our 
religion is true and our pastors are genuine, when 
they imitate our Lord.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


401 


That is true enough, Miss Plowden, but I must 
confess that I am no Saint or Apostle either, and 
when a man strikes me on one cheek, I am not 
ready to turn the other to him, but rather to knock 
him down and give him a kick or two, if he deserves 
it. Hence, though I like your advice very well, 
Miss Mary, and would do all in my power to prove 
to you that I have the highest respect for what 
you say, yet, I am afraid that when I meet Hoskey, 
I greatly fear that I will forget all your preaching 
and go for that infidel and conceited scamp, as we 
go for a sneak-thief on board the boats, namely, to 
write our sentiments of him in legible characters on 
his hide, and compel him to say his prayers louder 
than ever he did at his mother’s knees.’’ 

‘‘ Indeed I shall be sorry to hear of any more 
trouble, however much I regret the occurrences of 
the last few days. I must bid you good morning, 
Mr. Ryan,’’ she said, bowing to Mickey Bocagh, “ for 
I feel it is my duty to call at the Presbytery to learn 
the nature of the injuries which his reverence re- 
ceived at the hands of these barbarous ruffians.” 

Mickey went his way, and though he was en- 
gaged on a steamboat of the Mississippi, he re- 
signed his berth on his vessel, being determined, if 
it took him a whole year idle, to watch his opportu- 
nity 'till he could come across those scoundrels who 
had the impiety to assail a clergyman while in the 
discharge of his pastoral duties. 

The poor river man, though he had for some- 
26 


402 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


time practised his religious duties, and had a mind 
that could rise to the dignity of forgiving a gener- 
ous enemy, yet his soul was still untutored in those 
exalted notions of religious perfection which teach 
that the greater the injuries received, and the viler 
the instruments of their infliction, the higher and 
the nobler is that sense of Christian forgiveness 
that condones such injuries, and the more deserving 
of the crown of immortal glory. These ideas were 
quite above the comprehension of the indignant 
river man, and there are many in a higher position 
Than Mickey Bocagh who cannot fully comprehend 
their sublimity. 




CHAPTEB XXXIV. 

THE LOST SHEEP PERISHES OUTSIDE THE FOLD. 

HE poor assaulted priest of St. Patrick’s 
Church suffered intensely from the wounds 
and bruises of Professor Hoskey and his gang 
of reprobate ruffians, but his mental pains 
exceeded those of his bodily injuries when he heard 
the recital of the afflicted Mrs. Spittle, whose un- 
happy daughter Nellie, was at the point of death. 

In the opening chapters of this narrative, we 
stated that this young woman became a frequenter 
of Methodist singing-schools, sociables, and camp- 
meetings, and finally a convert^ under the inspiration 
of a genteel young man,' who promised to marry 
her, but after having ruined, deserted her, on the 
streets of St. Paul. Her poor mother, notwith- 
standing her stubbornness and disobedience, rescued 
her from the infamy of the streets, and she was 
reclaimed from the lowest degradation that could 
befall a female. Having returned beneath the 
maternal roof, her sad mother sought to secure her 



404 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


reclamation by trying to induce her to receive the 
sacraments, but, instead of seeking to purify her 
heart by a good confession and penance, Nellie, 
under the advice of some of her neighbors, was 
content to try to improve her mind by going to 
school. Being of good natural parts, she learned 
rapidly, and, after a year or two, improved herself 
so far as to be able to teach school in country dis- 
tricts. 

She was now a school marm,’’ and as the 
memory of her faux pas’’’^ with her seducer died 
a. way, Nellie became self-important and wished peo- 
ple to understand that she was some pumpkins.’’ 
When reminded by her parents of her religious 
duties, she gave “ the old folks ” to understand 
that she was now of age, and didn’t want no 
instructions in regard to religion nohow.” 

Y arra, that’s queer talk for you, N ellie, asthore,” 
her mother used to say. “ If you don’t want in- 
structions about your religion from the priest or the 
sisters, how can you know what to do in regard to 
it ? How well you had to go to school for many 
years to learn to read and write and figure, and 
after all you may not be very good at learning. 
But you expect to know all about your immortal 
soul, without any teaching at all at all.’’ 

“ Mother,” she used to answer, “ you make me 
laugh when I hear you, with your Irish brogue, try- 
ing to speak English. Before I was educated^ I 
thought as you do about religion, and going to con- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


405 


fession, -and attending meeting, but now, since I 
finished my education at the academy, I have 
other notions about religion and such affairs.” 

Faith, then, Nellie dear,” the mother would 
rejoin, “ I doubt your edjication isn’t very parfect, 
or you' would not neglect your first duty, which is 
that which you owe God. And this we .can learn 
only from our religion and its teachers.” 

“ Old lady, I wish you would mind your own 
soul, and let me take care of rnine. Since I com- 
pleted my education (and I got a first-class certifi- 
cate for teaching), I have changed my views about 
religion, churches and ministers. As Professor 
Hoskey said the other day, at the Corners, where 
he delivered a speech, standing on a beer-keg, when 
we are educated we are our own teachers in re- 
ligion, said the Professor. We don’t want no 
priests or dominies to instruct us. We have the 
Bible to get our faith out of, if we need it. That’s 
what’s the matter, old lady.” 

“ bh, God forgive you, Nellie. It is nothing 
^ short of a Protestant you are when you speak in 
that wicked style. I’ll tell the priest on you.” 

I don’t care, old woman, what you call me, 
Protestant or unbeliever, but them is my senti- 
ments, and if you go and tell the priest, and bishop 
too, I care not a straw. Pshaw, what care I for 
priests or preachers, now that I am thoroughly edu- 
cated? Telling the priest about me, my old gran- 
ny, is played out. I don’t care a snap for him, or 


4o6 profit and loss. 

no other man. They are no better than other, men, 
as that clever young gentleman, Professor Hoskey, 
says at our sociables and in his lectures.” 

‘^Nellie, are you acquainted with that black- 
guard, a man whom the priest excommunicated for 
a horrible crime ? I ^m sorry, Nellie, that you don’t 
choose better acquaintances than the Professor 
and his party of apostates. The curse of God will 
fall on that wretch yet, if for nothing but his cruel 
treatment of the poor Norwegian girl whom he 
ruined. You ought to be the last person to speak 
of that vagabond, for he brought many a poor one 
to ruin, if we believe himself.” 

“ Oh, my old lady, it is not for his having de- 
ceived so many girls that I admire the Professor, but 
for his independence in getting rid of the authority 
of priests. The Professor never done me no harm, 
nor service neither, but. I love him for his liberal 
sentiments and outspoken free-thinking.’’ 

“ Indeed, I am sorry to hear you say you love 
a bone in the body of that schemer, who only 
escaped the gallows, or the State prison, for what 
is reported about him and the Mare. Those are 
poor Christians who learn either religion or mo- 
rality from the Professor. Let nobody ever hear 
you, dear, again speak in this wild manner. They 
would say you, too, were friendly with the Pro- 
fessor.” 

“ Mother, how often must I tell you that I am 
now educated, and that I don’t want no instructions 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


407 


from you nor nobody else regarding my tastes, du- 
ties or companions? I would not take correction 
from any person in what I say, do, think, or fancy ; 
much less will I take reprimand from you, who 
don’t know ‘ beans^ and can’t speak a correct 
word of English. Pshaw, what nonsense ! ” 

‘^Well, I suppose I don’t speak very good 
English. I can’t be blamed for- that, for I did 
not learn it, and it was not my native tongue. 
But, it appears to me, that, with all your Yankee- 
puckered mouth, you make a slip, now and 
again, in grammar. Don’t you mind the night 
the priest was here, how often he caught you in 
bad English, as when you said, ‘ / doiHt want no 
light; I haven’t got no dictionary’?’’ 

‘‘Yes,. that old priest did attempt to correct me, 
but then at that time my education was not fin- 
ished.^ and we had not got none to judge which it was, 
me or hint., who was wrong ! I bet, if he ever comes 
here again, I can soon trip him up in accent and 
education ! But, I hope he shall never cross this 
door again. I will have no more to do with priests 
or preachers, since I am now educated as well as 
they.” 

“ Oh, Nellie, agra. You are to be pitied. And 
I am, too, who have had the misfortune to be your 
mother ! Oh, my God, did I live to see the day 
that my own unfortunate daughter should speak 
to me in this wicked way? Oh, good God of 
Heaven, and His Holy Mother, look with mercy 


4o8 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


and pity on you to-night, my foolish daughter, 
and on me, your sad, sad mother. Oh, wirra, 
wirra, Vaugher Dea, tour Courduin. Oh, Virgin 
Mother of God, come to my aid this night,” added 
the poor woman, bursting into a copious flood of 
tears. 

This scene will give the reader an idea of the 
education which Miss Nellie Spittle had acquired, 
before she became qualified to become a common- 
school teacher. She lost her reputation in the first 
place. Then she lost all reverence for religion, 
and holy things, and persons ; and lastly, she lost 
the natural love and respect which every rational 
animal, and almost every animal of the lower crea- 
tion, generally entertain fpr th-eir parents. These 
were the vices which her education^ taken in a bad 
sense, implanted in her susceptible mind. She was 
naturally affectionate, mild, humble, obedient and 
respectful to parents, and full of faith, reverence and 
love of God. But now, after the education .which 
she received, she became proud, skeptical, harsh, un- 
amiable and brutal, especially towards those who 
ought to command her reverence and love, namely, 
her poor, affectionate parents. Had she lived, she 
could not but curse that education that had so sud- 
denly and deplorably changed her natural good 
parts and disposition. But it pleased Providence 
to cut short her career, and now, while the paj;ish 
priest lay bruised, weary and sore on his mattress, 
Miss Nellie Spittle lay at death’s gate, in obedience 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


409 


to the mysterious summons of her Creator. Like 
the barren fig-tree, she was allowed no longer to en- 
cumber the ground of God’s holy vineyard. 

■‘^Nellie was given up by the doctors, your rev- 
erence,’’ said her mother, who was talking to the 
wounded priest, and if you can’t attend her, your 
reverence, and I fear you can’t, on account of your 
wounds, I fear my poor unluckly daughter is lost 
forever.” 

/‘Oh, yes, Mrs. Spittle,” answj^red the priest, “ I 
shall have to attend her, no matter, whether my 
wounds will be made worse or not thereby. The 
dying we rnust attend, even at the risk of our lives. 
But, has she sent for me ? If not, I would not go, 
for I have heard, indeed it is well .known, she 
joined those camp-meeting people, and as I am for 
the widest liberty of conscience, even so far as let- 
ting a man go to perdition, if he wishes, I am not 
willing to visit your daughter unless she intimates 
her desire to return to the faith of her youthful 
days^ Did she tell you to come for me ? ” 

“ Well, your reverence, I can’t say she did. 
But I spoke a good deal to her these two days, 
and when she saw me cry so much, she seemed to 
soften a little, and to be willing to gratify me. 
Says she, ‘ Mother, dear, do not cry any more, and 
I will do anything for you. I hate to see you shed 
so many tears!’ She then kissed me and asked my 
pardon for having offended me. And, as soon as I 
saw her in that state of mind, I came off without 


410 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


more ado for your reverence. So, I hope you will 
come to see her, for God’s sake. Try to fetch back 
the strayed sheep to the fold of Christ.” 

“ I will go with you, my good woman. But, I 
doubt, if it will be of any use. She has been so 
long among those swaddlers, or roaring Methodists, 
and so flattered by them for ' independence and 

enlightenme7it, that I fear she won’t get the grace 
of God to die the death of the just. Go you 
ahead, before me, and I shall be there within an 
hour, and, of. course, I will be able to judge for 
myself, whether or not she repents of her errors 
and impieties, and is willing to make her peace 
with God.” 

The old lady went forward, elated at the expec- 
tation that her daughter would be willing to see 
the priest, repent and confess her sins, and thus 
die in the bosom of the fold, but the mother was 
too sanguine of the success that she expected. 
The brave Nellie, on being informed that the 
priest was coming, protested against seeing him. 
She denied that she had any desire for the services 
of a priest, insisting that her mother misunderstpod 
what she meant when she stated that she would 
do anything in the world to please her. She stated 
that she wanted neither to see nor hear the priest, 
and that if he should come, she would rise up out 
of bed and shut the door in his face, if she even 
died in the .attempt ! She insisted That she was 
educated, and knew what was best for her now as 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


41 1 

well as when in health ; that she was not, on the 
last day of her life, going to renounce the principles 
she had so thoroughly imbibed in the academy ; 
that nothing could change her mind or resolution 
to die as she lived, without aid, advice or assistance 
from priests, preachers or ministers. 

These sentiments filled her parents’ hearts with 
unutterable grief, and the priest, when he heard 
of her determination, shook the dust from his 
shoes, and returned home in sorrow. 

There was one man alone present, like an evil 
genius, at Nellie Spittle’s bedside, whose poisonous 
tongue uttered a malediction against the priest, 
and whose ‘‘bravo’’ was the last articulate word 
which ever sounded in. the ears of this poor victim 
of a godless and defective education ! This ruffian 
was no other than Professor* Hoskey, who stole 
into her room during the confusion consequent on 
Nellie’s refusal to see a clergyman at her dying 
hour. There stood her evil genius, Hoskey, as it 
were to sustain the impiety of this victim of his 
impious teaching, if not, as w'as suspected, of his 
libertinism, at the last hour, and he remained there 
till the breath left her lifeless corpse ! 

The last word the poor creature uttered was 
her “ education,'" and she died in trying to give 
utterance to this word, the*abuse of which had con- 
tributed to her final ruin. 

The whole neighborhood was shocked at the 
unprovided-for death of poor Nellie Spittle. Even 


412 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the Methodists, who perverted her to their teaching, 
were disappointed that Nellie had not given instruc- 
tions to have her funeral sermon preached by one 
of their Elders, in their meeting-house. But no, 
there was no sermon, no sprinkling of holy water, 
and, of course, no requiem” over the body when 
dead, of her who, while living, had refused to be 
comforted by the sacraments of Christ. The 
priest, however, to mitigate the grief of the dis- 
consolate parents and sympathizing relatives, al- 
lowed her a place of interment in that corner of 
the cemetery reserved for strangers and still-born 
infants. 

And the parents, as they could not hope to 
benefit the soul of one who died an unbeliever 
in the saving mysteries of the church of Christ, 
erected a fine monument over her remains. On 
the marble there was not a word said of the life 
or death of Nellie Spittle. Her age only was 
recorded on the face of the slab, the place of her 
birth, and a few other common-place lines carved 
in bad spelling and cant. But, at the bottom of 
all were inscribed those old, honored and pious 
words, “ Requiescat in pace. Amen.” 

Her plot in that corner of the cemetery is kept 
in neat order, and flowers and evergreens deck the 
mound that covers her remains. And there is no 
other grave on which the flowers seerh to grow 
brighter, or the grass greener, than on that of 
• Nellie. Perhaps the reason of this is found in the 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


413 


fact that every Sunday and holyday in the year, 
that sad grave is watered with the mingled tears 
of poor Nellie’s parents, and her brothers and sis- 
ters, who not only lament her as lost to then\ here 
in this world, but probably in the next, Qwing to. 
the blighting influence of a godless and materialis- 
tic education. Let her fate be a warning to others 
who are careless of the education of their children. 




CHAPTER XXXV. 

STRATAGEMS OF A DESPAIRING LOVER. 

n 

HEN Elder Redtop had heard an authentic 
account of the recovery of young Mulroony, 
alias Ronay, and of his marriage to Miss 
Polly Spoones, he was distracted with indig- 
nation and grief, and acted like one deranged in 
mind. When first informed of the event by Elder 
Bull, for it was he who broke the news to him, he 
smiled, hoping that the presiding Elder was . only 
trying to pass off one of his jokes on his junior 
brother. But when the former assured him that 
he spoke the words of truth and soberness,” 
Redtop changed from a rosy red color to a death- 
like paleness of the face ; then he sighed heavily, 
and finally he sank in a swoon on his office chair ! 
The presiding Elder became alarmed, thinking 
that his friend had burst an artery, or was seized 
with a fit of apoplexy ; and, after ineffectual shak- 
ings and slaps on the palms of his hands, had to 
leave him alone, while he ran down to the drug- 
. store underneath for spirits and stimulants. The 



PROFIT AND LOSS, 


415 


. fumes of aqua ammonia soon revived the swooner 
into consciousness, and a good four-ounce dose of 
tincture of capsicum and French brandy helped to 
give force — the vis a tergo — to his torpid circula- 
tion. Without giving any explanation to the 
bystanders of the cause of the reverend gentle- 
man’s illness, — for several were attracted to his 
room by the noise overhead, — the senior Elder took 
his leave and departed, followed soon by the re- 
mainder of the persons around the room of poor dis- 
consolate Redtop. When he found he was alone, he 
closed the door of his room, and then for an hour or 
two gave full vent to his wounded feelings in sighs, 
sobs and soliloquies, and we are sorry to have to 
state, in occasional oaths and maledictions, also ! 

What course remained for him to pursue now? 
he asked himself. • Would he go off and purchase 
a revolver and ammunition, and seek out his de^ 
ceiver, and shoot himself in her presence? No, 
that would never do, he mused ; for then his 
detested rival, Ronay, would be free from the fear 
that could not but haunt him when he reflected 
that he overreached him (Redtop) in securing a 
wife. No, the revolver business would never pay, 
and as it involved some expense also, our rever- 
end hero banished the thought of suicide in that 
form as a mere temptation. Laudanum, strychnine, 
or bicholoride of mercury, would do the work of self- 
destruction as effectually as powder and ball, and a 
great deal more quiet and cheaper, too. But even 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


416 

in thinking of those remedies to ease his woes, he 
lost courage again. ' He . then tried to shake off the 
sensation of regard that attracted his heart to the 
late Miss Spoones ; tried to snap the cord of love that 
bound him a slave to that idol of his soul, by say- 
ing — Confound her, what is she, anyhow, but a 
bundle of dry goods and whalebone, set in artistic 
shape by the skill of a milliner ? Consarn and con- 
demn her, let her go to Hong Kong.” 

But, after all his curses, resolutions and excla- 
mations of disgust regarding her age, her temper, 
her habits, and her hypocrisy, he felt within him 
something that yearned for the society of Polly. 
There was a vacuum in his soul which nothing but 
her presence and society could fill up. 

“ What a strange being,” he said, “ woman is ! 
How uncertain, how fickle, how hard to please ! 
For years I have waited on that false one. I spent 
my money on her. I lost my sleep in thinking of 
her. I preached my best sermons, and offered my 
most moving prayers for her, and under her direc-. 
tions ; but no sooner does a newcomej appear, a 
man, too, far below me in accomplishments, than 
she forgets all my favors, all my love, all my devo- 
tion to her person, turns her back on me, her lover, 
and marries this foreign puppy, Ronay. Oh ! I 
prayed to the Lord often, but it seems in vain, to 
give that young lady to me formy wife, and I spent 
much money in consulting fortune-tellers and the 
best mediums, to make sure, of her love. But now 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


417 


I have lost all, and shall soon, fear, lose my life too ! 
I prayed to the Lord, and He did not hear me. 
Perhaps if I prayed to some other powers, different 
from those in Heaven, to the Pagan gods or the 
deities of Voodooism, as the nigger prophet ad- 
vised me once, I might have secured my Polly. But 
now she is another man’s wife, confound her soul 
and body.” 

After such soliloquies as the foregoing, the poor 
distracted man would kindle into indignation and 
deliver himself of such a string of oaths and male- 
dictions as would do credit to the famous blasphe- 
mer “ Tommy the Donkey” himself. 

After having exhausted his vocabulary of oaths 
and imprecations, he became calmer, stretched 
himself on his bed, and there at his ease, after hav- 
ing viewed the situation all over and on all sides, 
he formed a plan of a serio-comic character, which 
he determined to carry out immediately. There 
was an old single-barreled pistol in the drawer in 
his table, and this he took out and examined ; and 
finding the weapon loaded, he carefully drew the 
charge, taking care to have the barrel emptied out 
completely. He then charged the barrel with a 
small quantity of powder, and over this he dropped 
in a few patent medicine pills he found in a corner 
of his drawer. Now,” he said, as he placed it in 
his left breast pocket, “ we’ll see what we will see. 
I will go before her armed with this, and pretend- 
ing to shoot myself, I will find out her feelings to- 
27 


41 8 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

wards me. She always told me she loved me, and 
gave me the best proof that she did in accompany- 
ing me everywhere, that I wished to take her. 
Perhaps she has married this blasted Irishman for 
some scheme or other, or to get his property. Polly 
was always great on speculation ! But we shall soon 
find out whither she is a base deceiver or a clever, 
deep calculatin’ lady, who by this marriage seeks to 
raise me and herself in the world. The fortin-teller 
told me as much as that she would act so, and that 
I would be yet very rich without having to work for 
a livin’. Here goes to prove the truth or falsehood 
of all those preditions regarding my good luck.” 

The Elder, armed with his pistol and set speeches, 
set forth at his usual rapid pace, and in ten minutes 
he was at the mansion of Madam Spoones, which 
he entered without rapping, with the familiarity of 
a member of the family. 

The old lady encountered him in the hall, and 
he addressed her by exclaiming: Mrs. Spoones, 
where is my Polly ? I wish to see her immedi- 
ately.’’ 

Scarcely had he ended his words when Madam 
P. M. Ronay presented herself, and then com- 
menced a scene which, to spare the sensibilities of 
the reader, we must not attempt to describe literally. 
Red.top lifted his hands to Heaven in protestation 
of the depth and sincerity of his love. He wept, 
swore and prayed by turns, till he became nearly 
exhausted. He sank on both his knees and pros- 


419 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 

trated himself bn the floor in his efforts to embrace 
the very feet of his “ now lost lady-love,” as he 
called her. He was finally raised. up by aid of the 
two ladies, mother and daughter, and placed on an 
easy-chair in the parlor. He remained there a few 
moments, silent and gloomy, the two ladies affecting 
profound grief, till finally standing up, he drew the 
pistol and discharged its contents in the direction 
of his heart. A liquid of crimson hue flowed from 
his side. He fell prpstrate on the carpet. The 
two ladies screamed and rushed from the room, 
calling on some men in the yard to come to lift 
the suicide. 

“ Oh, dear, how dreadful he acted,” exclaimed 
the old lady. Oh, my heart is ready to fly away 
through terror and fear.” 

“ I never would have thought he had courage 
to. do it, mother,” answered the new-married lady. 
‘‘ Don’t you believe now, mother, I feel sorry for 
the poor fellow ? He loved, me so ardently, he did, 
mother.” 

“You are well rid of him, my dear,” answered 
her mother. “ Won’t Ronay be glad when he 
learns his rival made away with himself? I am 
sure he will. Indeed he will.’’ 

“ No, I guess not, mother. I would not like 
him if he rejoiced in my dear Redtop’s death. .He 
was very fond of me ; distractedly fond of me. 
Indeed he was, mother. Let us go back to see if 
he is dead. Poor fellow. My dear Redtop, do 
you know me ? ” 


420 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


He answered, “ Oh, oh, do I know you, my own 
Polly? Who else would I know? Come and kiss 
me again before I die.” 

“ Where did the shot take effect, my dear Red- 
top ? ” she asked, weeping. 

“ Oh, here at my heart. But I think it did not' 
penetrate a vital part. You were in my heart,, and 
you saved me.” 

“ Oh, don’t die ; don’t do so any more, and I 
shall love you better than ever. Live for your own 
Polly.” 

“Oh, I am now well, Polly, dear. Ybu have 
healed my wound by that word, that you shall love 
me, will be mine notwithstanding your marriage to 
Ronay.” 

“ I guess you are not dead yet. Elder,” said one 
of the men who raised Redtop up. “ Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
this is queer blood you give out of your heart, 
being nothing but a little red-currant syrup. See, 
here is the vial out of which it came. I’ll be dog- 
oned if/ this is not funny suiciding. Oh, Jehovah, 
what heroes we meet nowadays ! ” 

“ Blast my //eyes if what you say ’/tain’t true, 
Meyers,’’ exclaimed an Englishman named Seri, 
who helped to lift up the suicide. “ I’m ’anged if 
this is not the queerest country, blast it, on -dearth, 
where they suicide without being ’urt, and give 
out claret and currant-jelly instead of blood. Oh, 
that is what I call play acting, and not suiciding, 
and darned .queer play //acting it is.” 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


421 


“Men, ye say nothing about this outside, at 
your peril. It would injure our family in the pub- 
lic estimation. Let 7num be the word how, good 
men,” said Mrs. P. M. Ronay. “ I insist on your 
silence about the accident.” 

“Well, then, give us a quart of ^ale, or some- 
thing else good to drink, if we must keep mum on 
this rich scene o’ //accidence, as you call it,” replied 
the John Bull. 

“ Yes, you can have all you want to drink. But 
recollect if this goes beyond this house, you are 
both dismissed. Here are two bottles of my own 
home-made wine, four years old, one for each of 
you. We have no ale in the house.” 

“ Thank you Miss.” 

“ Madaifiy if you please.” 

“ Oh yes. Beg pardon. I forgot you were 
now Mrs. P. M. Ronay,” answered John. 

The stratagem of the distracted minister seemed 
to have succeeded, for whoever would have ob- 
served Elder Redtop leaving the hospitable man- 
sion of Madam Spoones next morning, would have 
seen in his countenance and whole demeanor a 
remarkable change. He was yesterday pale, ex- 
cited, fidgety and disturbed in all his movements. 
To-day he appeared calm, cheerful, resigned and 
happy, with a smile on his lips. What had hap- 
pened during the time he remained in that house, 
after his mock suicide^ we do not care to relate, 
though we could do so. But it was evident that 


422 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


the struggle was over in the breast of the Elder. 
He no longer walked like a crazy man. His 
apparel was not neglected. His looks were calm. 
His speech even was more rational. His appetite 
improved. He kept his hair ’ and beard rnore 
neatly trimmed, shaved and dyed. In a word, 
Elder Redtop was happy for the first time in sev- 
eral years! And this change for the better; this 
joy that beamed from his face ; this happiness 
that diffused itself all over his reverence, was all 
caused and communicated to him during this first 
night after her marriage that he remained under 
the roof of the comfortable mansion of Madam 
Spoones, the mother of the once elegant Polly 
Spoones, now the .wife, according to Methodist 
ceremony, of P. M. Ronay, alias Patrick Mulroony, 
of Irish settlement' in Minnesota. We have heard 
of men wRo were so sad and miserable as in one 
night to have all the hair on their heads turn from 
jet black to gray or snowy whiteness, but it has 
seldom happened that, as happened to Elder Red- 
top, a man, from being at the lowest depth of 
misery, ready to commit suicide,- became perfectly 
happy in one night. But this certainly happened 
to the Elder, ajid must be mainly attributed -to 
the plan of mock suicide which he conceived and 
carried out so as to test the affections of his lady- 
love. He tried fortune-tellers and mediums “ time 
and again,” but all to no purpose. It was only by 
trying the heroic and tragic, though his episode fell 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


423 


far short of the reality. It was in this line that 
success attended Rev. Elder Redtop, and he felt 
rejoiced to think that his success was likely to 
last. 

This day marked a new era in his life, and he 
felt" assured that his course in future would be 
onward and upward, and this conviction it was 
that made him perfectly happy, in a worldly sense. 

The following is a specimen of the explanation 
which took place between the Elder and his friend, 
now Mrs. P. M. Ronay: “My dearest Polly,- I 
thought this would be the last thing you would 
do, that is to say, getting married to Ronay, when 
you knew we were so long engaged, and I loved 
you so well.” 

“ I was not, my dear Elder, inclined to this step, 
you ought to understand. It was only in obedience 
to the advice of friends, especially our most zeal- 
ous ministers, that I took this step. You see I have 
succeeded in detaching Ronay and several others 
of the Catholics from Popery.” 

“ You haven’t, have you ? Who are they ? ” 

“ There is, besides Ronay and Professor Hoskey, 
one Mr. Sheyne; a store-keeper, and several young 
girls — Miss Mastiff, Susy Early, and. others. These, 
have all left the Catholics, and it is to co.mplete my 
work of conversion that I -joined myself to Ronay. 
This step was necessary to the success of my 
plans.” 

“ Oh, I see it all now. I can now account for 


424 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


your apparent slighting of me. It was all from 
hatred of popery, and to increase' our Methodist 
flock. I'hope you will have more success against 
the power of antichrist.” 

‘^Success! no fear of that. Why already sev- 
eral have left the Catholic school for my academy. 
And only of late the priest is become so unpopular 
on account of opposing common schools, that a 
body of men, headed by one of my pupils. Professor 
Hoskey, lately almost murdered him.” 

“ Is that so? This is glorious news.” 

Why, Redtop, you don’t hear nothing; what I 
tell you is true. I have worked it so, through our 
sociables, singing-schools, night spelling-schools, 
sewing-bees, and other lady societies, and through 
circulation of such books as ^ Portrait of Popery.,^ 

‘ Maria MonP s Disclosure^ and the ‘ Escaped Nuns 
Narrative' all of which Professor Hoskey handed 
round to be read by Catholic girls, that there are 
many of them who gave up going to confession, 
and some of them, like Nellie Spittle, refuse to see 
a priest on their death-bed.’’ 

“ Let me kiss your hand for that. You are, the 
Lord be praised, a glorious apostle of our Evangel- 
ical faith. What a triumph, that a Catholic lady 
died without seeing her priest ! ” 

•‘Yes, my dear Elder, and the children even 
now all over the Irish settlement refuse to salute 
the priest by taking off their caps as they used to 
do, and some of the older ones even curse the old 
priest.’’ 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


425 


‘‘Well now you have made grand progress to- 
ward Evangelical religion among the Irish Catho- 
lics. More power to you from the Lord.” 

“ I will tell you a secret, Elder, my dear. I 
married this Ronay to get the one-third of his prop- 
erty. He is worth thirty thousand, and by this lit- 
tle stratagem I get the handsome sum of ten thous- 
and as my dowry, and a chance of the Jmll property 
in case he should die, or anything may happen so 
that I could inherit all his property. Don’t you see 
the game I am after?” 

“ I do that. May the Lord favor your plans ; 
they are noble, high, and honorable, my dear.’’ 

“ Now we must part for a while ; good-by.” 

“ Good-by, till we meet again.” 




CHAPTER XXXVI. 

O for a tongue to curse the slave. 

Whose treason, like a withering blight, 

Comes o’er the counsels of the brave. 

And blasts them in their hour of might/’ 

OD save all here,” said young -Mulcahy 
(called ‘^the Doctor” by his companions), 
as he entered, one Sunday evening, into 
Mr. Plowden’s house. 

“ And you likewise. How do you do, Mr. Mul- 
cahy? Take a chair sir,” responded Miss Mary 
Plowden. 

Hallo, Hogan, Kennedy, Haley, and you, 
Nick ! what in the world brought ye all here to- 
gether?” 

“The. same that brought yourself, rnan, our feet, 
and to see the ladies, of course,” replied Riordan. 

“ I know well that that was your business here 
Nick, without your telling me. Sure enough, there 
is quite a bevy of young ladies. How do you do. 
Miss Lee? Miss Fish? Miss F^n ?” he said, taking 
each successively by the hand. ‘‘ What news from 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


427 

Mulroony’s ? you live near that family. Has Paran 
M. got along his bride yet to her new home ? ” 

News, is it ? I have nothing else but news. 
And that of the most exciting character and thrill- 
ing interest almost every hour^f the day ! ’’ 

“ Has the old lady yet heard of her son’s mar- 
riage, or is it true that he is married ? for one can 
hardly believe anything that is reported nowadays, 
except it be vouched for by some respectable per- 
son, Mr. Mulcahy,” said Miss Mary Plowden. 

‘‘Indeed, Miss Mary,” he answered, “it is too 
true, and his mother has been informed of all its 
circumstances, and more than actually transpired, 
by that ’accomplished coxcomb and disturber of 
the peace, Hoskey. Excuse me, ladies and young 
friends, if I tell you that I never had a stronger 
temptation to curse that infamous scamp than I 
have at present — aye, every time I think of his 
conduct.” 

“Well, well, how smooth he appears when ad- 
dressing a young lady,” said Miss Lee. 

“ But, after his connection with this Methodis- 
tic marriage outrage, no young lady, I hope, will 
ever salute the wretch again, or deign to look at 
him.” 

“ Indeed, none who has any self-respect for her- 
self would salute him long before, his connection 
with, this Mulroony scrape,” remarked the mild and 
modest Miss Fish.. “ Since his exploits among the 
Swedes and Norwegian lasses,” she continued, “ no 


428 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Irish- American or Catholic young lady would even 
go to a party where Hoskey would be admitted, as 
there were few people so dead to their own honor 
and the respect they owed their families as to admit 
such a conceited puppy as him among their guests.” 

‘‘ Ladies and gentlemen, I was present at the 
legal investigation in Judge Black’s court where 
Miss Polly Spoones came to prove her marriage to 
young Mulroony, and she would have been defeated, 
have utterly failed to prove that she was his wife, 
for the man was unconscious when the mock cere- 
mony was gone through ; but lo and behold ! when 
the woman, backed by her parsons and friends, was 
about to be scouted from the court-room, and the 
case going to be dismissed, up comes the perjured 
wretch, Hoskey, and swears that he was present and 
heard Ronay repeat the marriage words in distinct 
form ! ’’ 

“And perhaps the vagabond wasn’t present af 
all at the marriage,” remarked Riordan. 

“ Of course he was not. He was no more there 
than you or I ; he was miles away, over in Wiscon- 
sin at the time.” 

“ Oh is not that dreadful to think of,’’ exclaimed 
the young ladies. “ He ought to be tried for per- 
jury.” 

“ But was not the spooney, Pat Mulroony him- 
self, willing to marry that old maid ? were they not 
engaged, and did he not hang around her hoops 
like a spider around a wounded fly?’’ asked Rior- 
dan. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


429 

“ Yes, lie was undoubtedly promised to her; at 
least I have heard so. But not at that time, or 
under those circumstances did he wish to marry 
her — when he was wounded, unconscious, and his 
life despaired of! Mulroony’s Irish blood, spooney 
though he be, in being attracted by the faded 
charms of Miss Spoones, could not put up with this 
piece of jugglery, that made him a married man 
without his consent or knowledge. Evil will come 
out of it. They may be married, and he may now 
consent to take her as his wife, but, to be happy 
with her, he never can,’’ 

‘‘So his mother, the poor old pious lady, has 
heard it all ? ” inquired Miss Plowden. 

“Yes, and here, too, I condemn Hoskey’s con- 
duct. After the repeated rebukes the wretch 
received from the old lady, who forbid him ever to 
enter her house, he had the audacity two days 
since to enter her house again, under pretence of. 
seeing his friend, P. M. Ronay. And it was then 
that he togk occasion to tell her all about her son’s 
marriage. The young man, Mulroony himself, 
wished to conceal it from his mother as long as he 
could, but this demon in human shape would not 
rest till he told her of the occurrence, in order to 
add to her already heavy afflictions ! Can you 
blame me, therefore, my friends, if I often repeat 
those words of Moore in ‘ Lalla Rookh’ — 

* O for a tongue to curse the slave ! ’ ” 

“ How did the poor old lady receive the news ? 


430 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


Didn’t she manifest great sorrow?” asked Miss 
Mary Fish. • ' 

“Sorrow is no name for her sufferings. She 
was literally torn in all her members, nerves and 
•muscles, with sensations of the most painful kind. 
She next became unconscious, till she was relieved 
by her tears. Then when the source of her tears 
was dried up, and the. lachrymal glands became 
shrunk to nothing, she became desperate. She 
called her two servants, and ordered them to tear 
up the carpets, and had all the furniture put out of 
doors and loaded on large wagons, with orders to 
carry it to the railroad station to have it shipped 
to the East. Then she visited her orchard and 
flower-plots and evergreens, and with a small sharp 
ax attempted to girdle and destroy those splendid 
productions of nature. But here her good heart 
rebuked her. She could not sum up courage to 
injure those tender productions of her care. Hence, 
instead of hacking, cutting and wounding the 
young trees which her hands had cared for and her 
labor nourished, she began to apostrophize and 
address, kiss and caress them, as if they were con- 
scious of the affection she bore them, saying, ‘ Fare- 
well, my sweet flowers ; good-by my comely apple- 
trees ; adieu my lovely pear bushes and charming 
evergreens; I shall never see you again, or be 
delighted by your blossoms, fruits, and shades.’ 
Oh, it was really moving. It would make the most 
savage Indian of a Comanche or Blackfeet tribe 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


431 


melt in pitying sympathy to witness the old mat- 
ron’s sorrow. Yet old Mudd, Hoskey, and the rest 
of the rabble who swear by them, were present, 
sneering, laughing and ridiculing the noble old lady 
because they envied her superiority and were full 
of whiskey.” 

“Was old Mudd there? I thought he was 
some sort of a decent man,” asked Miss Lee. 

“ I am surprised at old Mudd acting so,” ex- 
claimed Miss Mary Fish. 

“Decent? 'Not he, the old blaspheming hyp- 
ocrite, who, yv^hen he is not dead drunk, is ever 
cursing and swearing. Yet, because he is rich, and 
can lend money on long time, though at usurious 
rates of inl;erest, he is the head man in that low 
locality. His name, Mudd, describes well his 
nature — low, filthy, obscene, and knavish. Indeed, 
as for me, I see no difference between old Mudd 
and his muddy-faced sons, and / Tommy the Don- 
key,’ the blasphemer, only that one is rich and the 
other poor, and smells like a. pole-cat. They are 
both equally dirty, equally vulgar, equally ignorant 
and base, equally dissipated, only they are not 
equal in their worldly circumstances. That’s all 
the difference between rich old Mudd, who op- 
poses Catholic schools for fear of having to pay 
something towards their support, and the rest of 
the low barbarians who are averse, to, because they 
are ignorant of, the advantages of a Catholic educa- 
tion. The low set also go in for the district schools 


432 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


because an odd one of their children can get em- 
ployed in them as teachers.” 

Where does the old lady, Mrs. Mulroony, 
intend to go, or has she already left her house ? ’’ 
asked Miss Plowden. 

“ I believe she intends to spend the remainder 
of her days, Miss Mary, with her eldest son Mich- 
ael, who is in wealthy circumstances in the State 
of New York, near the city of Troy, in a place 
called Schaghticoke. She has left her comfortable 
and elegant homestead and gone to live across the 
strait, in the State of Wisconsin, for the present, 
not being willing, she stated, to remain one other 
night under a roof that was to shelter Miss Spoones, 
now Mrs. Ronay. Oh, she is a very high-spirited 
woman, as well as a pious matron, who hates 
hypocrisy and impurity.’’ 

“ It is a sad thing surely, gentlemen,’’ resumed 
Riordan, “ to witness such desolation in a house so 
well regulated, and where we Were all welcomed by 
Mrs. Mulroony, as if she was our mother. But 
this is Professor Hoskey’s doings altogether, and 
if I live to see his hang-dog face once more, I will 
leave a mark on his ugly mug by which he shall be 
known forever after! Indeed I will.” 

“ What ! will you bite his nose off, as ‘ Crooked 
Peter’ did to Mucklehead Lofin ? ’’ 

“ No, but I’il leave, him some work to employ 
a dentist on, I’m thinking. He now speaks 
through his nose. I will widen his mouth so that 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


433 

he will have roQm enough to use it in speak- 
ing.” 

“ Have a care, he carries a couple of revolvers 
alway on his person, and a huge knife.” 

He is too great. a coward to use them. His 
bravery consists in triumphing over silly girls who 
believe his perjured oaths, and in assaulting un- 
armed priests in the dark. I won’t speak of his 
exploits in reference to certain quadrupeds which 
he injured, and for which he barely escaped prose- 
cution.’’ 

‘‘Oh Nicholas, no more boasting, if you please. 
We want to see actions, rather than hear words.’’ 

“ Wait awhile, gentlemen, wait awhile. The 
wicked won’t always triumph,’’ added Riordan, 
and the conversation ceased. 

28 



O 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

A change comes over the fancies of our genteel 

HERO. 

F ever any man in ordinary circumstances 
could say that he was his own master, and 
had his own way, free to think and act as 
he pleased — ever successful in carrying out 
what he proposed to himself to do, without let or 
hindrance — that man was Patrick Mulroony, alias 
P. M. Ronay, our ‘genteel’ Irish-Americari. Well- 
fed and well-clothed in the fashion of the times, 
and well-educated according to popular opinion ; 
well-off in the world, and now well-married , to a 
highly accomplished young lady, and well-respected 
in the community, and, in addition, well-rid of all 
those who contradicted or thwarted his designs, or 
reminded him of his neglected duties — what more 
did he need to make him happy? And yet,, he 
was far from being happy. His wife, now snugly 
settled in the mansion purchased by the virtuous 
industry of his parents, instead of being the ele- 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


435 

gant lady whom he admired when done up in the 
fashions of the dressmakers and milliners, appeared, 
when stripped of her showy toggery, a very com- 
mon-place, matter-of-fact, if not a vulgar, woman. 
The enchantment which hoops and pads, and puffs, 
and paint, and pomatum gave to his fascinating 
Polly was all gone, with almost the rapidity of the 
volatile perfumes and essences that made her 
presence charming in the ball-room or 'the sociable 
party. Besides these external defects, her temper 
altered also, and the sweet words, the fascinating 
smiles, and languishing looks of earlier days were 
now succeeded by sharp tones, sour looks, and aii 
assumption of authority and commands that ill- 
sorted with the demeanor of a mild, amiable 
and obedient wife. In addition to these sad 
changes in the person of one whom poor Patrick 
Mulroony regarded as perfect before he knew her 
real character, there was such a run of Elders, 
preachers, colporteurs, tract-distributors, Bible-mon- 
gers, and male and female evangelizers, in the 
house, that it began to look as if he, P. M. Ronay, 
had no- real authority in his own homestead. These 
people, like locusts, invaded his house day ’ and 
night, and, like the suitors of Penelope, threatened 
before long to eat up all its substance. Redtop 
was there oftener than others. Elder Bull was 
there occasionally, and Hoskey would be there 
almost continually, for he loved an abundant table, 
but that his friend, P. M. Ronay, kicked him out 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


43 ^ 

the next time he came after the departure of his 
mother. All travelling preachers, fat and lean, 
ragged and well-clothed, male and female, came to 
enjoy the hospitality and liberal cheer of Mrs. 
P. M. Ronay. They never said “ by your leave” 
to the unhappy Ronay himself. He, they fan- 
cied, was nobody. The wife was boss. But, they 
mistook the man’s character. He took note of’ 
them all, and scanned the looks of the roguish, 
lying pack, and wa^determined, like .the exiled 
Ithacan, to dear them all out in a batch very soon. 

One morning, after the roarers, male and fe- 
male, were very noisy the night before, our “ gen- 
teel Irish-American” hero spoke to his wife thus : 
“ Polly, what in the world do you want with all 
those noisy people’ here every night now almost 
since you came home? I don’t like to be rude, but 
if these low people don’t keep clear of this house, 
I will have to kick them all out, as I did your 
former pupil, Hoskey, the other day.” 

“ Paran M Ronay,” she exclaimed, what do I 
hear you say ? Are you joking, or in earnest ? ’’ 

I am in earnest, Polly, I assure you ; very 
serious, and mean to do what I say.’’ 

“ Why, what is coming over you ? Do you not 
know all those holy people are my friends, and come 
here, many of them from afar, to pray for your con- 
version, knowing that that event 'is dear to my 
heart ? ” 

“ Oh, nonsense, Polly ; do you think I am a fool 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


437 


now, as I was, I confess, when I first listened to 
your twaddle about conversion? Now I give those 
wretches timely notice, through you, my lady and 
their friend, as you say you are, for you seem to be 
almost always in their company, that if they don’t 
one and all keep away from here, and give up their 
dang nonsense about me and conversion, I will kick 
them all out severally and jointly, high and dry, 
on the road, as sure as my name is Pat* Mulroony.” 

‘‘Oh Paran, oh Ronay! what a change is 
come over you ! Oh, I fear the Lord will never 
change your heart. Oh, I thought you would not 
speak to nie, your loved Polly, in this style. Oh ! I 
fear you are not going to be converted, or that you 
will become a backslider, from what you professed.” 

“ No, ma’am, I never will; I never could be con- 
verted, as you style it, by such drivelling nonsense 
and low cant as these degraded, uneducated people 
go on with in my own house, to my utter disgust 
and annoyance. 

“ I will say no more now, seeing that you are try- 
ing the old female stratagem of tears and hysterics 
on me,” he added. “ I am not now so green as to 
be affected by such sentimentality as I used to be 
when L was younger. Shut up now, or retire to 
your room, for I see two Sisters of Charity coming 
in the front gate. By the by, one of them looks 
very like my own loved sister Annie, who joined 
the Religious seven* years since. Oh dear, it is 
she.” He opened the door, and there, sure enough, 


438 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


stood before him his own sister, now called in 
religion, Sister Blesilla, and Sister Bona, a German 
sister of the same habit, who accompanied her. 
“ Oh rny sister Annie, welcome to your own old 
home, your mother’s house, and to your brother 
Patrick’s arms. Oh, let me press you to my heart 
and kiss your holy lips.” 

“Not my Jips, Pat, dear, they are consecrated 
to our Lord ; but my forehead or cheeks, if you 
please.’’ 

“ Oh my dear Annie, how good, young, pure, 
bright and happy you look ! Let me kiss your 
hands, so pure, white and smooth.” 

Oh no, Pat. I don’t want you to do that, 
though I know you love me as of old you used to 
be so good to me, your little Nancy.’’ 

“ Well, then, I will kiss the cross on these splen- 
ded beads of yours, that hang by your side. Oh, 
sweet cross,” he said, his eyes filling with large 
tears, “ how happy are those who worship alone 
what you represent! Too long, alas, have 1 lost 
sight of the glorious cross ! I suppose I will have 
crosses enough by and by.” 

Oh, my dear Pat. Where is poor mother ? 
You have not allowed me to ask for her; is she 
sick? Is she at home ?” 

“ My poor Annie, mother is gone,” he said in 
audible sobs. “ Oh she is gone, oh ! ^1” 

What, she is not dead, is she?” 

“ No, no, not dead. But heart-broke from my 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


439 


foolish, cruel conduct, she left and is gone to live 
with Michael. Oh, I have not had a day’s luck 
since she left our house. And all our happiness 
has fled from us since my holy mother lelj:.” 

‘‘ Oh Pat, don’t you grieve about her leaving. 
She is happy, I hope, with Michael. Don’t cry so, 
like a big soft baby, Pat. Be more manly. Oh, 
but you do look so changed, so sad. What on 
earth deformed your chin so, as I can see, though 
the scar is concealed partly by your beard ; you 
used to be a fair, comely boy, Pat ; now you look 
careworn and troubled.” 

“ Oh, I was shot and wounded. It was almost 
a miracle I lived. I suppose* it was your prayers 
that saved me. I was not fit to die ; I must suffer 
before I am fit to follow Christ.” 

“ Have courage, Pat ; have courage. Who is 
that lady I saw going into the bedroom behind the 
parlor.” 

“ That is my wife, Mrs. Pat Mulroony, by your 
leave. But she re-baptized me P. M. Ronay ; made 
me a Frenchman.’’ 

“ Oh, then you are married ! Why did not you 
introduce me at once to your wife ? you are a queer 
boy, Patrick ; always plaguing people as of old.’’ 

“ Why, my dear Annie, — I beg pardon, I must 
call you Sister Blesilla, — my wife, if you please, is a 
Methodist saint, and I must ask her leave before 
introducing such idolatrous people as Sisters of 
Charity to her high mightiness.” 


440 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


“ Don’t talk any more nonsense, Pat ; I know 
now your are gassing ; speak common sense ; Prot- 
estants love the sisters.” 

“ Upon my soul, I tell you the — ” 

“ Oh, Patrick, I will believe what you say with- 
out swearing. Come, introduce. us to your wife. 
Sister Bona here is a convert-from Methodism, and 
your wife won’t object to see her, I am sure, and I 
am her sister-in-law. She can’t but like to see me, 
her husband’s sister.” 

The introduction took place, and was very for- 
mal on both sides, but though the reception of the 
Daughters 6f St. Vincent by the lady of the house 
was rather uncordial, yet it could not be called un- 
civil. The two religious remained about ten days, 
constrained by the master of the house, who liter- 
ally worshipped them, and when they were depart- 
ing, placed the handsome gift of one thousand dol- 
lars in a sealed envelope in their hands with the in- 
junction that it should not be opened till after the 
sailing of the steamer on board of which they re- 
turned to St. Louis. 

While the religious were at his house, they were 
not annoyed by the noise of itinerary retailers of 
evangelical wares, for Mulroony placed his man 
David at the gate to warn all such intruders from 
the house, and he kept them away. 

Besides the presence of the Sisters of Charity, 
there was another reason why reverend roarers 
were tabooed, and this was, that the lady of the 


PROFIT AND LOSS, 


441 


house was near her. confinement, and she didn’t 
desire any religious noise to be . mingled with the 
screams and confusion of the obstetrical period in 
her house. Hence, our ‘‘ genteel Irish-Arnerican,” 
for one month at least, got rid of perambulating 
preachers and their noise ; and he seemed more 
comfortable in mind since he resolved to follow out 
the advice and instructions of his dear sister, and 
her companion. Sister Bona, both of whom promised 
earnestly to pray to God for his salvation and con- 
version. 



f 

ii 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


THE BREACH BECOMES WIDER' THAT DIVIDES THE COUPLE. 

NOTHER event soon occurred in the family 
of our ‘gented’ friend which filled his heart 
with a brief interval of joy, and which, if any- 
thing of this world could do it, ought to 
have made him happy. He was a father ! A fine 
young boy of seven pounds weight (for they placed 
it in the scales) was born to P. M. Ronay. 

He was congratulated on all hands. His wife 
called him to her bed-side, and embraced him ten- 
derly, presenting him with the little stranger to have 
him kiss it. Telegraphic messages were despatched, 
far and near, to the relatives on both sides, announc- 
ing the glad event. But a Mrs Williams, who lived 
a long way down in Wisconsin, near Milwuakee, an 
aunt of our hero, was the only relative of his who 
was present, having come all the way to see the 
young representative of the old respectable name 
of Mulroony. 

On arriving at the town of Brighton by railroad. 



PROFIT AND LOSS. 


443 


she had some trouble in finding any one to give her 
information of her nephew, for, when asking the 
townspeople if they knew where Patrick Mulroony 
lived, they all shook their heads, giving her to un- 
derstand at the same time that there was no such 
person in or near the town of Brighton, or “ around 
these diggins,” as they expressed it. She went to 
the livery stable to hire a carriage to carry her to 
her nephew’s place, but they knew of no such man 
for ten miles around. She inquired at several storey 
in the village with no better success. At last she 
went to the chief hotel, kept by Mr. Broadhead, 
and he not only directed her aright, but, with his 
usual liberality, drove her out in his own private 
carriage to her nephew’s place. 

The nephew received his aunt very cordially, 
and only smiled when she told him how difficult it 
was for her to make him out, all the citizens telling 
her they knew none of that name, Mulroony. 

The young heir of the house of Ronay, as he 
was called, was about a month old when Mrs. Wil- 
liams arrived, and she was quite, indignant when 
she learned that it was not yet baptized, though 
the mother had named it, calling it ^‘Younglove 
Butler Spoones Ronay 

“ That was a queer name surely,” remarked 
Mrs. Williams. But, she added, when it would be 
sent to the church to be baptized by the priest, he 
would easily clip off some of those queer long 
names, and call it decently after some saint. 


444 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


‘‘ No, no ma’am,’’' replied the child’s mother; 
‘‘none of those names will ever be changed, or 
dipt, as you call it, by priest or Pope. I named him 
‘ Younglove,’ for my uncle 'was called thus. I ad- 
ded ‘ Butler,’ for father obtained all his honors 
under General Butler when he governed in New. 
Orleans. And of course I added our family name 
Spoones ; I could not .leave that out, nohow.’’ 

“Well, but sure he is not baptized yet,” re- 
joined Mrs. Williams. “You don’t want, do you, 
to baptize as well as to name it yourself, I hope ? ” 

“Yes, I could do it if I wanted to. But I 
don’t believe baptism is a saving ordinance, and I 
won’t mind having it sprinkled till it comes of age 
to ask for the ceremony, if he likes it.” 

“ The Lord be praised, but you are a curious 
mother. What if it should die . before coming of 
age, without baptism ? Then how would you have 
to answer the Lord for your cruel neglect to your 
child?” 

“ I don’t believe no such stuff as that. Any- 
how, no popish priest will ever sprinkle or handle 
any of my children ; that’s so.” . 

“ But what will the father of the child say to 
these wicked ideas of yours ? Will he allow his 
son to be used in this cruel manner? I think not, 
if he is a Mulroony.’’ 

“ But he is not a Mulroony.” 

“ Then my nephew is not father of the child, 
eh ? Do you dare to say this in my presence ? 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


445 

Run, David, and call youf boss,” she said, turning 
to the servant boy. 

I did not say that he was not father of the 
child, I mean your nephew. I only said that Mul- 
roony was not his name ; um ! um ! um ! ” 

“ Well, then, who is the. father, if not Mulroony? 
You repeat the same thing over again. This is 
dreadful talk.” 

“ What I have said is, that he is ijot now called 
Mulroony, but ‘ Ronay.’ This is what I meant 
madam, um ! um ! what a cough I have.” 

“ I understood you in a different sense, and I 
donT know but you spoke the truth. The truth 
comes out sometimes, in spite of people. Good 
God, what brought me to this house ? I must 
clear away from it at once,” the spirited Mrs. Wil- 
liams said, as she quit the room.* 

Her nephew met her going towards the gate, 
where she addressed him, saying, Pat, you keolaun 
(silly fellow) you, what sort of a spoony are you, 
and to allow that woman inside to use you like a 
fool ? Is that your child within, in the bed ; and if 
it is, why not have, it baptized?” 

“ Indeed, aunt,” he answered, “ I can’t tell you 
whether the child is mine or not. I begin to doubt. 
What do you think, aunt?” 

I think, Pat, you are the greatest goose on 
earth. You allow your wife to name your son and 
heir with such a string of names as would make a 
dog laugh, namely, ‘Younglove Butler Spoones 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


446 

Ronay,’ with Mulroony kft out. Oh, you spoony, 
you. Only for I knew your mother to be the best 
woman in the world, I would say you have not a 
drop of Mulroony blood in your veins.’’ 

“ I must explain to you, dear aunt. They don’t 
call me Mulroony here, but shortening it, they call 
it ‘ Ronay.’ ” 

Oh, is that it? Well, anyhow you ought to 
have the child regularly baptized by the parish 
priest.’’ 

‘‘ I would, but I have taken it into my head 
that perhaps I am not its father. Did you observe 
the color of the bushy head of hair it has on? And 
also that the nose is turned up. None of the Mul- 
roonys was ever known to have a red head on 
them ; what do you say ? ’’ 

“Oh, that may be only a rash judgment of 
yours. Anyhow, whoever is its earthly father, Pat, 
I would make it have a father in heaven, by bap- 
tism right away.” 

“ That is true. Will you take it to the church ? 
She may object, but I guess I am boss here as yet, 
and shall have it made a Christian, at all events.’’ . 

“ Faith, I don’t think you will be boss long 
here,’’ remarked the shrewd matron. 

His suspicions were well founded. The mother 
did object, and resist vehemently, the taking “ her 
child to be sprinkled by a popish priest.’’ 

Her husband answered her by saying that he 
had as good a right to prescribe what was proper 
for the child as she, he hoped. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


447 


She answered that she did not think he had I 
that she, so far, suffered most for the child, and as 
he did not seem to love it as he ought, he forfeited 
all right to control the child’s destiny in a religious 
point of view. 

The child was conveyed to the church, however, 
and the parish priest was really astonished when 
told that it belonged to Mr. Mulroony. 

When he asked the sponsors what name the 
child was to get, Mrs. Williams answered, ‘‘Call it, 
sir, ‘ Patrick Michael Mulroony I ” 

“Mulroony?” said the priest, repeating the 
word, “ I don’t know any person of that name in 
the congregation. Perhaps, you mean P. M. Ro- 
nay ? ” 

“Yes, your reverence, some called him by that 
name, but he is going to resume the old name and 
the old paths I hope.” 

When the baptism was over, and the name 
registered in full, the godmother handed the priest 
a fifty dollar note or bill, saying, “ The father, not 
being able to be present, sent you that for a fee, 
your reverence, with his filial duty.’’ 

“ I thank you. That is very liberal of him to 
do. I think, notwithstanding his change, of name 
to the Yankee pattern, there is some Irish blood in 
him yet,” said the priest ; “ may God bless him.” 

• ‘ Do you think there is any Irish blood in this 
youngster you made a Christian of just now? I 
don’t think there is. His hea*d is too red fora Mul- 
roony.” 


448 PROFIT AND LOSS. 

‘‘Tut! tut! don’t talk that way, my good 
woman. The child is good enough, God bless him. 
Take him home now to his parents.” 

“ Indeed I will, your reverence. I don’t at 
all grudge them their luck in this little luchaurC* 
(feeble child). 




CHAPTEE XXXIX. 


THE GENTEEL IRISH-AMERICAN BROUGHT TO HIS SENSES. 
AT LAST. 



HIS narrative, according to the rules of 
criticism, ought to have ended with the 
chapter that recorded the marriage of our 
hero. But as the writer prefers to satisfy 
his reader’s expectations rather than to please 
critics, he concluded to add this and the two or 
three last chapters, in order to trace to the end the 
fall of the principal characters of the work. 

It is certain that the visit of Mrs. Williams to 
her nephew, though she had the very best inten- 
tions, effected nothing toward drawing closer the 
bonds of love between him and his wife. On the 
contrary, her comments and strictures on the ap- 
pearance, character and style of Mrs. Mulroony, 
served greatly to. arouse her husband’s suspicions 
and to widen the breach between the couple. 

She often reproached her nephew with such 
language as the following : What on earth made 
you marry such a woman at all ? She had neither 
29 


450 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


wealth, beauty, nor family. Look at her build. 
She is all pads, mohair, cotton, pomatum and 
paint ! See her shape. Her legs, when she hasn’t 
on her artificial calves^ are like a pair of knitting- 
needles stuck into two sods of turf.' She is as 
stooped as a woman of sixty. Really, I’m ashamed 
of you, Pat.” Such and like speeches from his 
aunt and others, daily added to the young man’s 
disgust, till at length .he began to despise, if not 
to hate, her whom he had so long ardently loved. 
Rude, words and harsh expressions soon succeeded 
to ideas of disgust and contempt, and very sharp 
words passed between the pair. 

One day, to the question why she commenced 
again to introduce preachers into the house, she 
replied that it was her house as well as his,- and, 
that she would see and receive whom she pleased 
without leave or license from him or anybody 
else. She was no slave of his, though she was his 
wife.” 

‘‘You will have to obey me, madam,” he said 
"Seterminedly, “ or we can’t be very long man and 
wife.” 

“ I am ready to sever the connection,” she 
answered, “ as soon as you like, if you give me my 
dowry of one-third of this place and alimony for 
me and my child ! ” 

“And then what wilkyou do?” he said. 

“ Then I shall do as I please, as I always did ; 
and perhaps get some one for a husband that 


PROFIT AND LOSS: 


451 


won’t play the tyrant, as you try to do. But you 
can’t come it, Ronay; I would not be my daddy’s 
daughter if I knew fear.” 

“ Please don’t call me that dwarfed name any 
more. My name is Mulroony, not Ronay.” 

“ No I shan’t begin now to give in to call you 
what I called you since the first sad day I saw you. 
I will be no Irish Paddy’s wife.’’ 

“ Whose wife will you be then? Perhaps that 
holy 7nan, Elder Redtop, would suit you better than 
I — a mere Irishman ! ” 

• At the mention of Redtop’s name, because she 
felt stung at the reproach that a hint regarding his 
intimacy involved, her eyes kindled. She be- 
came pale in the face, looked around her for a 
weapon, and seeing none at hand, she snatched the 
coffee-pot from the stoye and flung it at her dear 
husband, almost scalding him to death. 

“ Very good,” he said, “ I’ll soon find out what 
you are made of. I won’t raise a hand to you, 
though I am a Paddy. But mind, if I find your 
pious friend here once more, I will make him pay 
for this infamous conduct of yours, madam.” 

‘‘You dare not touch. a hair on his head. You 
know if you did, you would be sent to the State 
prison, where you -ought to be for your cruel treat- 
ment both to me and my child. Oh, the idea . of 
having my beloved babe sprinkled on by an old 
popish priest, and that against my will. ^ could 
endure anything but that Yes dear,” she con- 


452 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


tinued, addressing the infant, ‘‘you are now a 
papist. I don’t care how soon you die, for I can’t 
love you well any more.” 

Then to these passionate words succeeded 
reproaches, tears, oaths, protestations, regrets and 
hysterics, till, in utter despair and disgust, the 
young man left the house, saddled his horse, and 
after giving some instructions to his men, rode off 
to St. Paul. 

He did not return for two or three days, and 
the wife began to become uneasy, suspecting many 
things, but really feeling sad for the absence of 
society. Hence, she sent a messenger into the 
village to invite her religious friends and enlist 
their sympathy, and ask their council in her troubled 
condition. The whole crowd of religious fanatics 
came round again, accompanied by others who 
came to protest against the injustice done to her 
feelings by the baptism of her infant by the priest. 
Some proposed to go to the priest's house to mob 
him. Some were for taking a legal action. But 
the Elders discountenanced these violent measures, 
assuring the crowd that they could undo this 
popish baptism again by administering a ceremony 
of their own, and addressing the “ Throne of Grace,” 
as they called it. 

There was great activity for a day or two at the 
homestead of Mulroony, and liberal feasting, and 
loud talking, and pious praying, and plenty of old 
wine drank, and all the good things liberally par- 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


453 


taken of, while the man of the house was absent. 
Finally, on the third day Mulroony came back, and 
upon receiving a signal from David, his confiden- 
tial man, he rushed into his house and there found 
the dominie., Redtop, praying in rather a husky 
tone of voice, holding one of madam’s hands in his 
own, with his other hand on her shoulder. 

The indignant husband seized him by the red 
hair of his head, dragged him roaring to the kitchen 
door, and flung him out on the wet and slippery 
pavement. -His arm was broken, and he lost an 
eye by being dashed against a sharp stone on the 
paved door yard. The servant next came up, and 
taking him to the public road, and giving him his 
hat which fell from his head, he pointed out to him 
the “ road on which he should go” in double quick 
time. Half blind and maimed as the wretch was, 
he made good his arrival home in Brighton, two 
miles distant, in little over twenty minutes. 

This put a stop for a short time to the intru- 
sion of itinerarypreachers to the Mulroony mansion. 
But, as. violence is always wrong, it happened that 
what this inexperienced young man regarded as the 
most effectual means to get rid of these intruders, 
was the very thing which secured them a home 
and a warm reception under the roof that once 
sheltered the Mulroony family. 

***** 

It happened about six months after this un- 
fortunate assault on the wretched Redtop, who 


454 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 

now, from being a fool, became a hero, that a good- 
hearted priest now no more — requiescat in pace — 
named Father Thomas, was going his rounds in 
the State prison, distributing prayer-books and 
other religious articles of interest, such as beads 
and medals to the Catholic prisoners. 

On the day in question he had a larger variety 
of presents than usual, for it was during the 
Christmas holidays. He had a consoling word for 
all, serious or pleasant, as he perceived from their 
countenances whether they were sad or cheerful. 

There was one whom he noticed very sad, but 
did not dare to speak to him, as the jailor told the 
priest he did not belong to ‘^his folks.” 

The young man himself, however, addressed the 
priest, asking why he did not speak to him, or give 
him any of his sacred books or beads. 

“ I did not think you were a Catholic, as I per- 
cieve from your language you are,’’ said the priest. 

The priest then asked the ja;nitor why he had 
been mistaken about this young man’s religion. 

He answered that he took him to be, from his 
name, a native, and heard he was a Methodist, and 
was sentenced for attempting to kill his own min- 
ister. 

No such thing,” answered the prisoner ; “ I am 
a Catholic and an Irishman, and was never a Meth- 
odist or anything else in my life but a Catholic, 
though only a bad Catholic.” 

‘‘Is not your name- Ronay? ” asked the jailor. 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


455 

No, sir, my name is Mulroony, and my Chris- 
tian name is Patrick.” 

“ How, then, have the officers that delivered 
you here given in your name as Paran M. Ronay? ” 

‘‘ I was called that by my neighbors, and I al- 
low I acquiesced in the change for a time. But I 
was baptized Patrick Mulroony, and with that name 
I expect to go to the grave.” 

“ Oh, then, you are mine,” said Father Thomas. 
“ Please, Mr. janitor, let me into this young man’s 
cell ; I wish to have a conversation with him.” 

“Yes, of course, and welcome,” answered the 
jailor. “ Here, Father Thomas, are the keys for 
you, and you can enter any cell you please. I am 
not afraid that you will aid any of the prisoners to 
escape.” 

In a few words, our once, genteel Irish- American 
who had changed his name, neglected his religion, 
and despised his parents, all because he wanted to 
get a high education, informed Father Thomas how, 
after he assaulted the Elder, he was arrested and 
tried for attempt at murder, and sentenced to four 
years in the Penitentiary. He learned since also 
that, having been sued for damages in a civil action, 
the Elder Redtop recovered ten thousand dollars 
against his farm, which was sold at auction, but 
again bid in and purchased by his wife in her own 
name. “ Thus, you see, Father,” he added, with 
tears in his eyes, “ how I am now deprived of my 
liberty and means of livelihood, because I gave no 


456 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


heed to the advice of my mother and her clergy in 
regard to what they correctly called Godless educa- 
tion., but what Professor Hoskey at first, and after- 
wards my wife, praised as the greatest blessing man 
can enjoy as enabling one to get rid of what they 
call superstition, and giving him independence of 
thought and action. You can see, your reverence, 
what I profited and what I lost by my foolish course. 
Profit — 1st, A County superintendency of educa- 
tion worth $900 a year ; 2nd, the name of being a 
smart man in the community ; 3d, a few academy 
prizes ; 4th, an extravagant and expensive wife, and 
lastly a home in the Penitentiary for four years. 
This is the siTm of my profit. Now let us see the 
loss : 1st, I lost my peace of mind, and a good con- 
science; 2d, I lost both my parents — father by death, 
and then my saintly mother, who left me in disgust 
and took with her all my luck ; 3d, I lost the affec- 
tions of relatives and good-will of friends ; 4th, I lost 
my faith, at least, for a time, and the Grace of God ; 
and lastly, I lost my farm, my property, and, worse 
than all, my liberty. Oh Father, how unevenly 
they balance my Profits and Losses.*' 

‘‘Yes, my son,” said Father Thomas, “and 
another loss you have suffered, which I suppose 
you are not aware of. Will I tell you of it ? I fear 
you can’t stand it.’’ 

“ Oh yes. Father, I can stand anything now ; I 
am so wretched and humbled. Nothing can affect 
me more than the loss of my parents. Please tell 


PROFIT AND LOSS. 


457 

me what other loss I have suffered without know- 
ing it.” 

“You have lost your wife, who, after her legal 
divorce from you, immediately got married to Elder 
Redtop, her former suitor, and they are both living 
in your house, which now, by a fiction of law, 
belongs to them. Can you stand this news un- 
moved ? ” 

' “Yes, Father, I can. This loss is what I call 
a great gain. I would forfeit the whole State, if I 
owned it, in order to get rid of that infamous 
woman, who has been the active cause of all my 
mishaps, troubles and calamities. I am now light- 
hearted. I will be again, I am already, happy since 
I am parted fronpi that woman forever. Father, let 
me kiss your hand for giving me this glad news. 
Now, though within these walls, I am free, since I 
am rid of that most false of womankind. Father, 
please hear* my confession. 1 will now begin a new 
life, be a good man forevermore, since the Lord and 
His holy mother have permitted me to regard my- 
self as free from the chains which that craftiest of 
women wound around my captive heart. Let her 
have the fa.rm, ay, and all temporal prosperity, so 
that I can say that once more / am free — I am 
Patrick Mulroony.” 

Father Thomas exerted his influence in favor 
of the young man, and he had to serve but one 
year out of the four in durance. He moved down 
east after he got his liberty, leaving his farm to 


458 


PROFIT AND LOSS 


the spoilers, though he could regain it by litigation, 
and is now a wealthy contractor in an eastern 
city. 

The wife and her child both died of the small- 
pox soon after, and poor Redtop is in the Lunatic 
Asylum. Hoskey, the knave, lives yet, but lives 
despised by all his neighbors ; shut out from decent 
society, and is a victim of an incurable disease, 
loathsome to himself and disgusting to society ! 

Sic transit gloria mundiP 


THE END. 


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